So, Shannon’s stomach virus only lasted about 12 hours.  Emma and I were also sick with horrendous colds.  Lost my voice, the whole bit.  Miraculously, Christmas eve we were all pretty much fine. 

 

Then, yesterday after work we ran to Target to pick up a few things and I started feeling extremely queasy.  So we basically ran to the car and tried to get home.  But unfortunately didn’t make it.  I won’t go into the icky details, but I don’t think I’ve been that sick since I had food poisoning.  Then, about 4:00 am, Emma started crying and ran into the bathroom.  And you guessed it.  Now she had it.   And now Shannon has the cold.  I think maybe I should put a quarantine sign on the front door.

 

But at least we were all healthy on Christmas and it looks like we’ll all be back to normal by New Years.  And isn’t it amazing how we all managed to get sick when I didn’t have to work?

 

Christmas was its usual magical time.  It’s one of the few nights the girls actually go to sleep without complaint.  The girls slept until 6:00 am, and when they came down and saw the American Girl dolls, their faces light up like you wouldn’t believe.  A little later tho, I looked over and Emma was touching her doll crying. I asked her what was wrong and she looked at me with her big blue eyes and said, “I just really didn’t think I was going to get it.”

 

Buying American Girl Dolls?  Expensive.  Making my little girl’s dream come true?  Priceless.

So, 3:30 am today found me outside in the -7 degree wind chill (40 mile an hour sustained winds, gusts up to 51) and blowing snow trying to find and capture our missing sleds, which, along with most of the neighborhood, had blown away.  I was successful in locating three out of four, unfortunately the favorite seems to be gone forever.  I even went back out with the car around 8:00 am.  But to no avail.  Hopefully this will teach the girls to put them away.

 

Shortly after my trip around the neighborhood, I heard thoe dreaded words, "Mommy, I don't feel good.  I think I'm going to throw up!"  followed by Shannon shoving me out of the way so she could make it to the bathroom.  The poor child can't keep anything down.  She has thrown up 8 times.  I feel just awful for her.  The girls were supposed to spend the night with their father and the stepford wife and that, needless to say, is off.   Right now I'm just really hoping her whole Christmas isn't spent like this.

 

 

 

 

I took the girls for a flu shot the other day.  They were actually excited about it because they both manage to catch a bad case of the flu every year, and the possibility of a flu free winter made us all happy.  I was very proud of them.  No crying.  Until after it was over.  Then Emma looked at her arm, saw it was bleeding and started crying.  In all fairness, her arms are so very skinny the woman nearly stabbed through to the bone.

 

Anyway, I asked for a band aid.  And she keeps going on and on about how bad it hurts.  And the nurse looks at me and says, "She's quite the drama queen, isn't she?"  And I just replied, "You have no idea.  She's Oscar worthy."  She even tried using it to get out os going to school the next day.  Because someone MIGHT touch her arm.

 

However, today Shannon saved a puppy from getting run over in front of the school.  How awful would that have been if she hadn't been able to grab him?

I don't mean to keep harping on this point, but this creeps me out!  The girls and I were driving today (past a family of deer grazing in a field, fortunately the coyotes weren't there) and this song comes on the radio.  And Shannon says, "that's the song Dad and S danced to!" and it was the same song we danced to.  And for our wedding, he chose it.  EWW! 

 

I've decided I'm going to call her the Stepford Wife.  She's like a new and improved version of me.  I bought a copy of the Secret Garden for the girls because it was my favorite, and when they were with their Dad and S at a resale shop she bought the same book and told the girls it was her favorite when she was growing up.  Freaky.

 

And in a scary turn, he's started driving her to and from work, he holds her cell phone and he's the only one that ever answers their phone.  It appears (although I could be wrong) that he has really accelerated isolating her.  Step one in the DV handbook.  It's weird.  I feel worried and removed at the same time.  How is that possible?

Dan Fogelberg died.  Don't laugh, but I really loved his music.  I knew he had been sick, but it still makes me sad.

One of the things that was very important to me at my wedding was the music.  I spent a great deal of time the organist/pianist planning it out.  We had decided to have the reception at the church hall (it was all we could afford).  We wanted something different, so we hired the best caterer we could find, did food stations, rented bistro tables instead of big tables.  We got lucky enough to have a friend who was dating a highly acclaimed pianist from a famous piano bar in the city, so he came and played for us for next to nothing.  And we were able to work it so the organist played our recessional song as we walked out, followed by a bagpiper playing the same song in the church courtyard, and the pianist playing a jazz version of the same song as people walked in.  I thought it was very cool, although nobody else noticed

 

Anyway, I digress.

 

I just found out my ex and his new wife used the same processional and recessional music.  I don't know why, but it seems a little creepy to me.

It's midnight and I'm watching it snow.  I walk over to the window, and just as I get there, an amazing sight.  A absolutely beautiful coyote runs by.  And then another.  I tried to grab the camera in time, but I was mesmorized by them until it was too late.

 

The problem is now I really don't want to go to sleep.

I heard a quote once that has run through my mind a lot lately. A man was asked his favorite time of day.  He replied, morning, because every when you wake up you have the chance to decide what kind of person you want to be.  I feel like all I have been doing lately is complaining and whining.  I’ve been feeling angry and frustrated.  And I decided to change that.  I decided I’m going to try not complaining for the last few weeks of the year. And this is how my day went:

 

The girls got ready for school with remarkably little yelling;

The woman I thought was angry with me isn’t;

I got a call from a different branch of the placement agency telling me about a possible opportunity, that I needed to take a couple more tests;

I tested at the Mastery Level on PowerPoint;

I missed 4 on a detail test where the average misses is 18;

I was offered a job.

 

Yes, that’s right.  I GOT A JOB!!!!!! It’s a long term temp job, covering a maternity leave where the woman probably won’t return, so possibly permanent.  The pay is a little lower then what I had hoped for, but it’s across the river, less than 5 minutes from my house.  And I’m in the running for another position that is further away but pays significantly more.

 

Did the positive outlook have anything to do with it?  Who knows?  But I think I’m going to keep it up just in case.

 

Miss Emma’s letter to Santa:

 

Dear Santa,

 

How are you?  Are the reindeer good?  You are nice to stay up all night to bring toys to kids.  Merry Christmas.

 

Emma

 

P.S. I’m sorry I’m not behaving.

 

I just wrote a post about why I feel so very guilty about what happened last night, but I really don’t have the right to talk in that detail about her personal life.  Suffice it to say she survived some truly awful things but emotionally, she was pretty destroyed.  And she is getting no support from her family.  I think I was one of the only non-professional people that were there for her. But it is just SO MUCH sometimes.

 

I tried to call her again today, but she didn’t answer.  I found an ad for a job that sounded perfect for her, so I just left the information on her voice mail.  So, we’ll see.

 

In other news, Shannon asked me if Santa was real.  While we were waiting in line to see him.  Talk about timing.  I asked her what she thought and she said yes, she thought there was but this boy in her class said that parents were the ones that bought the presents and pretended.  And I looked at her and asked her if I could ever afford the presents she got from Santa, and she said no.  I said that I had received gifts in the past that could only have come from (a) Santa. And that when kids stop believing, parents have to start buying the presents, and being that I’m unemployed, there would be no expensive presents (like American Girl Dolls).

 

I wonder if Santa could bring me a magic wand?  Or maybe a winning lottery ticket…or maybe duct tape to cover my mouth…..

 

I am a bad person.  A hurtful, bad person.  I said something that really hurt someone and I don’t know how to fix it.

 

Remember that little girl that was in my group at the zoo?  The one that was making me crazy?  Her mom, L, is unemployed and going through a bad divorce and a really rough time.  And I’m trying to be as supportive as I can.  She’s a really nice person.  But her daughter makes me crazy.  And they come over unannounced a lot.  Which is fine.  She really needs someone to talk to.  And Emma really likes S.  But she does wear thin sometimes.  Even on Emma.  And Shannon can’t stand her because she has no respect for any of their stuff.

 

Anyway, I had a job interview (went really well!) at 4:30 today and needed to find childcare really fast.  So I called L and asked if she would mind looking after the girls while I went.  She very nicely agreed and came over with S.

 

When I got home, Emma and Shannon were fighting, really fighting and it instantly put me into a bad mood.  We were planning to go to a local festival tonight and Emma had mentioned it to S who begged her mom to come with us.  So we decided to meet up there.  We get there and Shannon won’t listen and Emma keeps wandering off into the crowd, and S is all whiny and my mood just keeps getting worse and worse.  Then S trips and falls in the snow and she starts crying hysterically.  THEN, through a fluke accident S gets punched by some little boy in the crowd.  And Emma starts complaining that she’s hungry and Shannon starts begging for a cookie and it all just gets to be too much for me.  I look at Shannon and tell her I’m going to tell L that we are leaving but we won’t really leave and to just go along with it.  And she starts questioning me about it.  I try to explain, and she asks again.  I am so aggravated that I ay to her in a very loud whisper, “because I have to get away from S!”  And then I realize L is standing right behind her.  And she grabs S and says, “well, we’ll see you later.  Thanks for inviting us!” and walks off before I can say anything.  Not that there was much I could say.  God, I am such a jerk.

 

Of course then I did a really grown up thing and looked at Shannon and said, “Why can’t you ever just do what I ask without questioning and arguing?”   Because unjustly blaming her makes it all better.  Then I apologized and told her I was in fact mad at myself for being so mean.  Then I called L on her cell, but she didn’t answer.  I left a message apologizing, but really, I don’t think it’s going to help.  I just feel so bad.  I can imagine how awful I made her feel.

 

Any suggestions on how to fix this?

 

What is it about snowfall?  Why is it so magical?  Last night we had the first snowfall of the season.  The girls went out to play in it practically before it even hit the ground, they were so excited.  Rolling around, sliding and squealing.  You’d think they’d never even seen the white stuff before.

 

After I finally got them inside, dried them off, filled them with hot cocoa and put them to bed, I just sat watching it snow (at times sideways).  It danced, glittered and sparkled so beautifully in the moonlight, it seemed positively enchanted.  I could almost see the fairies flitting about.

 

It certainly worked its magic on me.  The pure, untouched snow left me feeling more at peace than I have in a very long time.

I swear I can cook.  Really.  I can.  Just today I made a Carmel Apple spice cake with toasted walnuts.  Completely from scratch.  Got two thumbs up from the picky eaters.  However, sometimes I'm a little accident prone (shocker, I know).

 

The other day I was trying to cook a really quick dinner for the girls and decided to make them Quesadillas.  Done it a million times.  I had one in the skillet and I was gently pushing down on it with my hand so it would all melt together. And apparently I wasn't paying attention, because I touched my wrist to the edge of the skillet.  And burned it.  So then, after swearing and running water over it, I go back to cooking and switch hands because my left one is still burning, and yes, you guessed it, I did it AGAIN.  This time to my right wrist.  So now I have matching burns on the inside of both arms.  Thank God it's winter and I can wear long sleeves!

Hopes and dreams and insecurities.  We all have them.  Some of us have more than others.  Me, I have more than my share of the latter.  And the last 24 hours has brought out the worst of them.

 

I think my dreams are pretty standard hopes and dream for my kids.  That they will be healthy, happy, productive members of society.  One of the things that has always pained me is their lack of family.  My father is dead, my mother, though supportive, won’t come visit (why, I don’t know – she dances around the subject).  My ex father in law wants nothing to do with anyone, and my ex mother in law is a violent alcoholic.  My brother is it.  And he’s wonderful.  I just always wanted more for them.

 

In talking with my ex and the new wife, we discovered we were buying the girls the same presents for Christmas.  The American Girl dolls.  But I have already gotten them.  And the new wife suggests that perhaps they should get them anyway, that the girls would then have dolls at both houses. What???  No.  Well, it turns out that her mom used to collect dolls and that’s why.  Then she tells me how her mom was crying at their reception because she was so happy to have grandchildren now.  And it made me so happy.  Then it was kind of like someone had stabbed me because I realized that my wish for them came true, but I wouldn’t be a part of it.

 

They picked the girls up this morning.  They were going to Chuck E Cheese.  It’s their first overnight with them.  The girls were very excited cause they have their own beautifully decorated room there.  And our house is decorated in early divorce with a touch of garage sale.  And of course, they hve two dogs and a cat.  And then there’s Chuck E Cheese.

 

Anyway, when they arrived, they told the girls they were going to finish decorating the trees.  That’s right, trees plural.  They have one for every room.  All with different themes.  Now, I love my sad little Charlie Brown tree, it’s got more love in it than a thousand trees.  And we have miniature trees in the dining room and both the girls’ bedrooms.  But somehow, when they started talking about theirs, I felt a little embarrassed by ours. And I felt the need to explain that it was cheap, that without me working we had to be careful.  And the new wife tells this story about how her big tree was free, hat someone at a garage sale just walked up and gave it to her.  And suddenly, I felt so inferior, insecure and jealous.  It felt like everything I do, she can do better.  And then I felt petty and small.  I should be happy that the girls have this new family that loves them and wants the best for them, and I am.  Truly. 

 

And you know what?  I do love my tree.  Almost all the ornaments were made by the girls.  And you can’t get much more beautiful than that.  And our furniture might be shabby, but every piece is proof that someone loved us enough to help us through that horrible time.    And you know what?  That makes it the most beautiful place in the world.