So, how about the weather?

Being in the thick of this thing i can't really share what's going on because i am processing so many feelings. I can tell you that it has been a week. It's exhausting this talking, especially for me as i am not a big talker. This is a difficult and enlightening journey and if at the end of it things don't work out i will know in my heart that the decisions were made out of love and honesty, not hatred and deceit. I am hopeful that my marriage will start again. Fresh and full of love. But, if it doesn't, this is a much better way for it to end.

But, today is mother's day. I woke up to smiling faces, a glass of juice and a cup of coffee. Breakfast was made and gifts were given. It was lovely and wonderful and all the things the day should be.

Happy Mother's Day.

Today i am officially off my medication for depression and anxiety. Manic Depressive. Bi-polar disorder. Borderline Personality Disorder. Social Anxiety Disorder. There's been a few in there.

Seven months ago i tried to commit suicide. For the fifth time in my life.

Five months ago my thirteen year marriage ended.

It would seem that, if ever there was a time, now is the time i need to be medicated. But? But, i feel differently. I feel like i have worked through a lot of the demons that have been haunting me. I have forgiven myself. I have forgiven others. I became ready to try life without the fog of drugs.

For me, medication never really made me feel better. I was on medication during my suicide attempt. It just made me feel dull and like a shell of my former self. Everything became more difficult.

Finding joy. Finding artistic fulfillment. Feeling awake. Feeling alive. Remembering things. Not needing ten hours of sleep.

Sure, i could face the world without anxiety. But the cost felt too high. I feel like i lost myself in prescription medicine.

This morning when it was time to take my medicine. A time that filled me with anxiety every morning because i knew that if i forgot, even for a few hours, i would face debilitating headaches and nausea later in the day. But, it was very scary to let go of that crutch. That thing which assured me, despite side-effects, was making me better.

I did it. I took my extra vitamins. My fish oils. My acidopholous. I sprayed some rescue remedy in my mouth and i faced the day. A first day in over two years without effexor, lorazepam, ativan, zanax or cipralex.

I made it through. It wasn't great. But, it wasn't horrible.

And i feel a little bit freer tonight. Waiting for it all to leave my body completely.

Waiting for me.

As is the way this time of year we have been fighting a particularly brutal stomach flu which turns into the hacking chest/sinus flu lasting two weeks. It has gone through tristan, parker, eliza, me, shane and now toby.

I went to bed at 7pm last night which, if you know me, is totally unusual. I was feeling crappy about feeling crappy.

At 10pm toby woke up crying that his tummy hurt. I brought him into my room whereupon he began an all night march which involved running to the bathroom every hour, crouching in front of the toilet for a few minutes, then returning to bed. Stomach still hurting. No relief.

Finally, at 7am just as i was standing naked about to get in the shower he came running in declaring "this is it mom!" and released the largest and most anticipated barf right into the toilet.

Then he marched downstairs, sat on the sofa and declared a sick day.

Poor boy.

The stomach flu is taking down my children like dominoes. Each falling about twelve hours apart.

I don't really mind. Other than the mountains of laundry and their sad little faces, it's nice to take a step back from the hustle and bustle of our lives.

I did, however, learn that there are some foods you should definitely not feed your children when barfiness is on the horizon, they are in no particular order:

• chili
• chocolate
• ceasar salad
• blue jello
• chocolate pudding
• any combination of, or at all costs, all of these at the same time.

Hello? Hello? I've been trapped inside my house for six days and i think i've lost my mind. Send help!

• Tristan - on the mend. antibioitics FINALLY working. fever down
• Toby - fever up to 104 yesterday. trip to emergency. mommy scared. strep throat. antibiotics. feeling better today.
• Eliza - woke up with croup on thursday night. very scary. call 911. feeling better today. on three kinds of steroids.
• Parker - trooper all week. started throwing up last night. up from midnight until 6am. sleep for 90 minutes and up for the day. grumpy as hell.

I had the strangest hot and heavy dream last night (i actually slept at some point. Not sure when.) about billie joe armstrong?! of green day. (Something about men in makeup.) We were in a mall shopping and i really wanted to, you know, fool around. In all my dreams i am my awkward, ugly, chubby fifteen year old self. He wasn't that in to me. Apparently though his girlfriend was hot lips houlihan.

Shane also declared our house alcohol free a week ago. I hate him a lot right now.

This morning i have done a bad, terrible, brain destroying thing.

I let parker and eliza watch 'teletubbies' and 'barney.'

After suffering through hours and hours of the chubby cartoons with tristan and toby i declared a moratorium: there will be no more overstuffed creepy dinosaur/alien shows in my house.

Sesame street is where it's at. I think the re-found popularity of all things sesame is a backlash by parents against the soul destroying toddler shows of the late 90's.

This morning, tired and needing a little break, i succumbed and my toddler and preschooler have been instantly initiated. They are begging for more. I told them barney, tinky winky, po, la la and dipsy were only on TV for one day. A special day. And they will never, ever visit again.

So far, so good. No nits here. I scritched and scratched all day. The minute shane walked in the door, before hello, came "do i have lice?"

and "How the hell do i know for all the gel and shit you have in your hair!"

Forget the kids. I am a wimpy wimp ass when it comes to all things buggy (with apologies to chair.)

The kids at the school (who had lice) are pretty much the most popular kids ever in my household. I love them so much and so do all my kids. Every single school day ends with at least one of my children wrestling or hugging one of them. I was pretty darn sure that today would end with nits nesting in our thick hair.

But, for once, luck is on my side AND i just happen to have loads of tea tree stuff. So we have all been bathed and sprayed and brushed with the tea tree oil.

Thanks everybody. Obviously we are not out of the woods, but having escaped round 1 lice 2006 is a celebration worthy of a beer. So, beer it is. Soon i will be instant garbly messaging.

All the bug thoughts got me thinking of two things today.

First, i have been so caught up in the lice i neglected to have a 1000th comment contest and the opportunity has come and gone. I think the online poker guy won anyway.

Second, how i hate bugs. I've learned to deal with them outside. I just walk away. Except when the ants invade the sandbox. I still haven't figured out how to get rid of them every spring. There are so darn many of them that even the chickens can't keep up. And! If i let the chickens eat the ants in the sandbox? Then i have a sandbox full of chicken poo. Double gross.

Last spring the ants invaded the inside of our house. When, after a few weeks, they persisted despite my best efforts i bought those ant traps. After placing them for a day or two i was horrified to realize that the poison is hidden in peanut butter! Thousands of little ants marching around my house, my house! with allergic eliza! with peanut butter poison all over them. Sucky.

Then in one of my worst waking nightmares a huge carpenter ant crawled over me in my sleep and as i sleepily grabbed it, IT, took a huge chunk out of my cheek. I woke shane up and showed him the dead ant clutched in my fist and the blood dripping down my cheek. Fucking mattresses on the floor. I was tormented a few more times last spring by spiders crawling over me in the night until i finally figured out to close my window. Fresh air be damned.

Really, i should have known that bugfest was upon us as i found two huge spiders in the bathroom, just last night, mere hours before the lice outbreak.

So really, i'm overwhelmed by all the love i felt today regarding my little toby and then the advice on lice! And i have retreated into feelings of unworthiness and insecurity and i am thinking of filing suit against shane for false advertising as he weighs AT LEAST seventy pounds more than when we married. Sorry if that is lost on all of you.

xxoo
jess

Help me!

I just got a call from school that there is lice in BOTH my kids classrooms! Aaaaaaaahhhh! Fuck.

Commence scratching of head now.

What do i do? What works best?

I should just shave everyone's head right?

*scratching head*

Help me please. I'm begging.

So i'm not really one to embrace the whole holistic health and homeopathy thing. I come from a doctor worshipping medicine loving family. The problem is i hate going to the doctor - really hate it.

I'm way overdue for my pap, but can't bring myself to drag my very nicely shaved parts to the doctor. I don't even take great care of myself. I mean i try. But, i take on too much, load myself up with stress, eat erratically and probably drink too much wine. Especially since i have an alcoholic brother and a family history of diabetes.

But, lately i've been experiencing some anxiety. In normal circumstances i could probably work my way through all of this with relaxing, exercising and increasing the joy in my life.

I just don't have time.

So, yesterday a good friend handed me a bottle of wine and a bottle of rescue remedy. Now doesn't that say something about the image i am projecting.

I will try the rescue remedy. At this point i would use the mystery machine if i thought it would help.

~ when the sun blasts through your windows for the first time in months you will realize that your house is not nearly as clean as you thought. Plus, Magic Erasers wreck paint.

~ via google, lots of people are wondering where stephen harpers kids go to school - SCARY.

~ if you get wax from a home-waxing kit on the counter it is very hard to get off.

~ if you withhold sex as punishment - everybody suffers.

I remember when i had only one child. I bravely subscribed to many "new" parenting philosophies. Many, many times i judged other mothers and said to myself "i will never do that". I am so sorry for all those times i blindly judged, you see, when you have only one child you are perfect and impervious and, although it doesn't feel it at the time, parenting one child is easy. I remember well hearing some parenting advice that suggested that you spend twenty minutes of quality time with each of your children each day. Twenty minutes! I couldn't imagine that that was even a rule. Twenty measly minutes.

Now, now! i have four kids and finding twenty minutes times four kids - each one alone, uninterrupted - well, that my friend would be a VERY good day. So, Ingrid ( can i call you Ingrid because internet is so vague) tell me how that is possible and i will bow to you.

What i am trying to say is that i am sitting here very late at night when i should be sleeping because this is the only time i can sneak away and be alone. And, shit, i'm finding all of this so very, very hard and tiring.

I'll tell you a story that happened to me this year. It was really awful and haunts me to this day. At some point in this year i was at Starbucks with all of my kids and parker and eliza were sleeping in the car. I left them there with tristan and toby while i ran in and got a coffee. Why? Because i needed a coffee and damn if i was going to wake them up so that i could get a coffee. So, i locked the doors with the car parked right out front and i watched them obsessively as i ordered and got my coffee. When i came out a woman said to me "can you believe the nerve of some people leaving babies unattended?" I didn't clue in that she was talking about me. I tried to walk by her to get in my car and she PUSHED me! "You are in trouble! I'm going to the police, this is against the law, you are going to lose your children!"

I couldn't believe what was happening. I asked her "do you know what it is like to have four children?"

She said; "you CHOSE to have four kids!"

So we had words. I NEVER have words. I drove away.

The police called me a few weeks later. She had filed charges for assault - against me. What i did was not against the law. Eventually, i went to the insurance company and said it wasn't my fault and it wasn't her fault and i just wanted the whole mess behind me. They found 50/50 responsibility. Apparently, i had scratched her car when she had tried to stop me from getting in my car and i had pushed my door back against hers. She fought that decision and they decided that she was crazy and made her pay for the whole thing ( i didn't claim any damage).

The whole thing left me feeling so betrayed. Betrayed by another mother. Someone who i thought should stick up for me no matter what. No matter what mistake i had made. Because we all make mistakes, right?

What i am trying to say is that being a mother is damn tough business and i applaud all of you. You are all awesome. Ingrid, you rock.

Dear flippy and leigh-ann i am sorry. Christmas dinner is ready for the oven. He had a good life and now we will probably fill up on stuffing as we stare at him on Christmas Day. We are thankful for his little life though.

xxoo

jess, tristan, toby, eliza and parker

Since i alienated most of you with my horrid tales of bodily break down i'll move on. I'll spare you the details of minutes ago finding Lucy the dog ripping apart a dirty diaper. Dogs are gross.

I have been overflowing with pressure and stress regarding the holiday. I wish i was a crafty mom, but i'm not. I wish i could savor the moments, enjoying all the details of trees, paper-chains, christmas concerts and stocking stuffers. Instead, i feel like the top of a tree in a windstorm. Ready, to topple with all the pressure of getting it all done.

As i was micro-managing the christmas tree decorating i had to sit back and laugh at myself. Who's this tree for anyway? Not me. This holiday is all about the kids. Why does the tree have to be perfect. They love it the way they do it. When the tree fell over in the middle of the night, instead of crying, i took the opportunity to let the kids re-do it however they wanted.

I love my children with everything i've got. The pressure to make it all perfect is too much. Instead, i am pledging to sit back and let this holiday unfold - wrinkles, pine needles and all.

Remember that Molly Ringwald movie where she gets pregnant and lives in a little apartment with her highschool boyfriend and they have a tent for a bathroom? Okay, remember the part where she's in the tent on the toilet and her head is sticking out the top and she moans about "things hanging out of her bum"? Remember? Keep that in mind for a few minutes.

Saturday night was the big party! Woo-hoo. I wore the shoes and there was no problem. I could walk and my feet didn't feel like bloody stumps. We had lots of fun, probably a little too much. Shane's band played and they were really great. I'm not just saying that as the wife of a rock god, i'm saying that as the president of the school. Everybody must now worship my husband - it's a policy!

Funnily enough, even though it was a parents party, i had the opportunity to see a very lovely old friend from university. One who i haven't seen in 9 years. Man, things change - but most surprisingly they stay the same. Ade and i worked together at the student newspaper and also sweated through women's studies together. She was nice to me even though shane and i were drunken belligerent bullies (at university, not the parents party). The thing i really noticed is that women in their 30's are hot! Really. The people i knew in university were all pale and fat-skinny. You know, living off a steady diet of sleep-deprivation, coffee, beer, french fries and smokes. It made for the sunken pale face and the soft body with a little puffiness to round it all out. If Ade is any evidence ten years of healthy living sure makes for a beautiful woman. On the other hand, i was really drunk and seeing through those drunky drunk happy eyes.

Anyways, it was really fun and i only fell down once and that was from trying to dance in four inch heels. I threw them away after that.

Also, the next day? It was really horrible. How come none of you warned me about those muscles in my calf. The ones that you use when you tippy-toe or wear high heels? The ones that seized up so tight that i couldn't walk when i woke up? Oh the pain. All the way down the stairs i cried "shit, shit, shit" with every step.

The molly ringwald thing? Apparently the high heels did something to me that required screaming at shane at 8 in the morning to go to the store and GET ME SOME PREPARATION H STAT!! Is that possible? HEELS = THINGS HANGING OUT OF MY BUM? I don't know, but that's what i'm blaming it on.

I know - classy lady lives here.

The lights are up. The decorations are up. The Starbucks holiday cd's are playing. The kids are being threatened several times a day with "do you remember about santa? Remember what he says about you better not pout? You do? Good! Stop whining, whining is pouting by proxy!"

Ah, empty threats. Gotta love em, know what i mean jelly bean?

In my spirit of hating the over-consumtion i have adopted pets for all my nieces: polar bears and turtles all around!

Shane and i have asked for donations to anaphylaxis canada on behalf of our little Eliza and apraxia canada on behalf of our little Toby.

Really we could use some help purchasing the 6 or so epipens we buy every year and the $8000 we spend on speech therapy, but that seemed - i dunno - asking for something we wish we had help with already.

I have made a terrible mistake. My dad came to visit this weekend, and as he likes to do we went out shopping together. He likes to buy me things every now and then, it's his way of showing he loves me. Plus, we get some time alone without the kids - a chance to chat.

So, he bought me some new boots which alleviated my guilt about the sexy shoe purchase because what i really needed was new boots. Good. A good thing.

And so we chatted. And because he's my dad and i love him and what i really want is him to be proud of me; i sort of let it slip about my blog. I didn't tell him the name or anything. But, he's a computer whiz. We've had a computer in our house since the first Apple computer came out in 1980 or whatever. Plus, hello Google, you are my enemy.

So, i'm going to hope he doesn't find it. Fat chance. Jenelle did. My ex-boyfriend did. Others have.

I think i am going to assume he never finds it and if he does WE SHALL NEVER TALK ABOUT IT. Especially the waxing stuff. OK dad? I will soldier on.

So, i'm feeling a little better. Thanks to some antibiotic intervention. I am sure that will pass after the four hour trip to my parents house this evening. As i am a sucker for punishment i will be loading the kids onto the 7pm ferry, arriving at my destination well past the recommended bedtime hour. This will assure that any progress i've made in the rest department will be null and void.

But sleep, beautiful sleep i can hear your siren call on the horizon. I have been speaking with Parker, in as much as you can speak to a two year old, about his near-future weaning. He refuses to reason with me. What's that all about? I am trying to be patient but, why oh why are two year olds so unreasonable? Right. He's two and practically still a baby. Not that i am talking myself out of this - i would never do that! At least not more than ten or twenty times.

And for those of you that have been following along - the itch? It does go away! If you are diligent and shave almost every day. Oh yeah, i have time to do that. What with Parker and Eliza standing in the shower with me every morning. And eight year olds? They notice that kind of thing, so have your reason ready. Also, now i'm too shy to go for my girly Dr. visit and stopping shaving? That causes the itch to return.

There you go weaning and cootchie shaving all in one post; now that's a good day.

So it seems that if you are sick for five weeks with a few days of grace in between you should probably drag your ass to the doctor. But, if your me you'll just wait because, heck, google is just as good as a doctor, right?

Turns out the answer to that one is n-o. Today i was informed that, perhaps, i'm not wallowing in despair and misery requiring large doses of wellbutrin. Instead i am festering and stupid. Pneumonia has been kicking me in the ass and making me feel like a rejected pile of poop.

But, hello antibiotics you will save my life. Plus a healthy dose of Tylenol 3's for the headaches that make me want to sit in the closet and weep while my children continue their crusade to find me* - "the best hider in all of hide and seek land!"

In Parker news this weekend is it. IT i tell you. The day has come that he shall be weaned. I'm heading to vancouver and my unsuspecting parents where i intend to let him scream and yell and hissy fit to his hearts content - all night long. Then i will sleep all day whilst my poor mother looks after my lovely children.

Pneumonia has sort of suggested to me, strongly, that i need to sleep - a lot.

Thank-you

* i only do that on days when it rains for more than 6 hours.

Eliza has recently started wiping her own bum. We felt it was a quality control issue and chose to wipe her bum for her probably a little longer than most parents do. But, to be honest we were just so happy to have our children pooping on the toilet that wipin their little asses was a sacrifice we were willing to make.

When Tristan was just under two i did as most first-time mothers do; i read the books and discovered it was potty training time. I bought the books, the videos (i would rather punch myself in the face over and over infinity than listen to that potty song again) the cute little potty seats and the big girl undies. We worked on it for a week and holy shit she did it! She peed on the potty all the time, loved her pink blues clues undies and wore her pull-up at night. It took me awhile because at this time i also had a newborn Toby; but, eventually i figured out that she was pooping in her pull-up at night before she went to sleep. I sort of (totally) let it slide. When she was around 3 1/2 we tried to deal with it (totally didn't). Sometime in her fourth year, when i also had 2 year old Toby potty training and newborn Eliza, i realized kindergarten was looming and the poop thing had to be fixed. By this time we had regressed to her asking for a diaper when she had to go, she even offered to buy them herself when i tried to bribe her. I started giving her a laxative, senokot, in her drinks and refusing to let her have a diaper. She would literally go days and days without going poop. Eventually, the laxative beat her and she had one tremendous poop in the toilet. I think it was a religious experience for her judging from the screams and crying and begging for mercy that preceded the gigantic bowel movement.

So, we wiped Eliza and Toby's asses for a little longer than normal.

Last night Shane and i were sitting on the couch watching tv and Eliza came down fro upstairs, naked. She had been in bed. She swaggered in, turned around and waved her little butt around and said "hi dad".
"hi Eliza."
"i went poo and wiped my own bum without even calling you."
"great job Eliza."
me: "uh Shane, look?"

She had little smears of shit all up her back. You see? It's a quality control issue.