ONCE IN A LIFE TIME. Or not.

When it was announced that the Olympics were coming a few years back I was thrilled.  Not only were they coming but they were coming to my home town.  Vancouver 2010.  The boys and I danced around the living room and I told them grand stories of that day, 5 years away, when the Olympics would come to Canada and all the ways we could participate and enjoy this ONCE IN A LIFE TIME activity.  It was hard to imagine my gangly 10 year old as a 15 year old.  My 3 year old would be EIGHT and would REMEMBER.  We could go to events!  And see PARADES!  And take PICTURES!

Its 2010.  The Olympics start on Friday.  And we aren't going.  We aren't even going to be able to be IN Vancouver and I am sad. 

And so when I realized the inevitable reality that tickets are expensive and I have alot of kids and my husband hasn't had much of a job for way too long I decided we would focus on the Olympic Torch Relay. It was coming to town.  OUR TOWN.  And it was a ONCE IN A LIFE TIME OPPORTUNITY.  We could be part of the Olympics.  And come hell or high water WE WOULD GO.  Because its the Olympics.  And its ONCE IN A LIFE TIME.  

And then Caden got the flu.  And then Shelby.  And then Tanner.  I did not care.  We would go.  We would go and experience the Olympic Spirit.  Because this is ONCE IN A LIFE TIME!

I started throwing up at 1 pm and the party started at 5:30.  At 5:15 I was wishing for death.  Apparently I was going to miss this ONCE IN A LIFE TIME opportunity, so looking over my bucket I sent my ill husband and the 3 reasonably healthy children out the door to go EXPERIENCE the Olympics.

And then Shelby lost a child and panic ensued.  And my kids remember this ONCE IN A LIFETIME experience as a long and scary night where they searched for their brother, who was clueless to the fact he was "lost" and having the time of his life. 

And I got one fuzzy picture of one kiddo enjoying her "Olympic Experience"  (aka the Glow Stick) she will never remember and I will watch it all on TV when it starts on Friday

 

And those pictures up above?  Those are from my sister because she actually got to experience it all.

GO CANADA!

Phase 2

Sorry for disappearing.  I left our meeting on Friday morning and headed down the highway for a hockey tournament with my two middle boys. 

I saw my dad.  I saw my sister. I saw ALOT of hockey.

And I came home to a chorus of Mama! MAMA! Mama!  And gummy kisses and drooly smiles. 

And I am ready to face tomorrow and all the unknowns that may bring. 

Thanks for praying.

The Precipice

Living life on the edge.  I can't write about all that consumes my every thought and so I am silent. 

We wait.  Wait for life changing, life freeing, life altering news.  A decision that changes everything that counts. 

I can't even breathe the possibilities and my heart breaks in 10000 pieces even thinking of the various possible outcomes. 

I was not built for this. I am not strong enough.  I love too hard.  Feel too deeply. 

I have done everything "right".   Kept every action pure.  Ever action right. 

But my thoughts run rampant.  My hopes.  I would dream but cannot sleep.

And my heart breaks for another who fails.  I do not wish  their greatest loss being my greatest gain. 

And yet I do.  Because I love and ache at the possibility of my pain. 

I know that pain.  I cannot live that pain again.

And yet I know of their loss.  No matter what I face their loss. 

I am loved.  I love.  And I fear.

Tomorrow comes with a finality I cannot avoid.

Tomorrow  I would covet your prayers.

Unwelcome Visitors Part Two

You know that sick kid from last week?

He was contagious.

Very, very, very contagious.

You know what happens in a family of 8 when a stomach virus hits?

A hell of a lot of laundry.

We are back in the land of the living.

Unwelcome Company

When you are sick at our house, you get lots of attention.




Not all of it is welcome.

Here Miss Curious is trying to convince Caden that he really wants to go ride his bike with her. Or wear the helmet. Or just wake up and PLAY. Immediately after this she smacked him.

The Blur? That is the tornado we call Trippy. The rolly poly dog on the bottom is Fat Annie who is enjoying her life of leisure and no physical activity since her surgery. They are both just happy to have a non biting member of the family laying on the couch to cuddle with.

Three kids sick. Shel working away. Jen tired.

The end.

Jinx

This was our front yard last year in early March.

This is where I have been every single day for the last week and a half, in mid-January. It's called a PARK. P-A-R-K. IN JANUARY.

Things you might notice about this picture.

1. The gigantic ball of light up in the sky. I hear its called the sun. Strangely, we noticed it was actually emitting warmth.
2. The child wearing seasonally inappropriate clothing. What that is is a hoody. In these parts they are the common outerwear of kids in June and July.
3. The exposed playing surfaces never before seen during winter months. The green ground covering object in the upper right of the photopgraph is apparently GRASS. Grass has before this point been considered extinct from October through April.

In other words because I told you about this we are bound to get two feet of snow and hit minus 30C by Wednesday.

3 Years. 36 Months. 1096 Days.

It was late. She was supposed to be in bed. We were both tired and cranky and I knew her Grandma coming to pick her up was in a bad mood. I dressed her in pj's and her snowsuit over top. The boys were off at a movie. Unaccompanied Minors. I remember the name the way that pointless trivia sticks with you when more important memories fade.

I sat her in the chair trying to keep her awake for the late night pass off I hated but couldn't change. She was going to Grandma's for a Friday overnight visit. Our relationship had grown increasingly strained in recent weeks and I struggled to find a way to fix it. There was no rational solution when dealing with an irrational person. Our difficulties made no sense. There was no logic to the complaints. I dressed her in the pink snowsuit and Grandma wanted her in the red. Her hair was growing too slow. I took her swimming at the pool. I let her mother come to visit. She loved us too much. She missed us too much.

Complaints I could not predict or rectify.

I wanted to scream "Don't you see how much she loves us? Don't you know how much we love her?" I was willing to do ANYTHING to fix things, driven by a fear that she held the power to break my heart. I grovelled. I begged. I paid. I fixed. I cried. I tried my best.

She left that Friday night before the boys even had a chance to say goodbye. She never came back. There was nothing more I could give and I knew, deep down, that inevitably Grandma would make me pay for the bond that Jazzy and I had, that she hated. An angry phone call and irrational complaints we could not fix. Shelby said no more and he was done with Grandma's drama. We couldn't play this game with our hearts, the boys' hearts or that baby's heart anymore.

We quit playing her game and we lost what mattered.

She left that night in her PJs. I handed her to her Grandmother. I kissed her cheek. I told her I loved her. "Mama" she said with a smile. I told her I would see her tomorrow.

Tomorrow never came.

I didn't know it was goodbye forever. I am not sure if I would have survived the night if I had known it was THAT goodbye.

My boys are haunted by her disappearance and their choice to go to the movie that night. They came home and she was gone. The child they adored. Their beloved baby sister. And she never came back. They never got to say goodbye.

Three years. I can breathe again. I go weeks without crying now. I smile and laugh and know I am healing. But never, ever does a day go by that I don't think of her. Ever. I gave her a year but I will love her for life.

Guilt

I could talk about our struggles with my teenager.

But children are dying.


I could talk about the new lino I picked out for my kitchen floor.


But children are dying.


I could talk about how Miss Tiny now weighs more than Miss Curious and they share most clothes.


But children are dying.


I could talk about how my friend is home from donating her kidney to my cousin and how much easier life is with only six kids vs. seven.


But children are dying.


I don't know how to transition from the horror of what has happened, and what IS happening in Haiti back to my real life. I feel disrespectful of the sacrifices, the loss of life, the current suffering to say "Hey, I got a new coffee pot and it totally ROCKS" or "Isn't this warm weather great?" or " MAN my kid is mouthy on his new meds".

We gave more than we could afford (I hope you did to) but it feels like an embarrassment compared to the need. Is it denial to take my girls to the park and have fun? Is it evil of me to turn off the tv because the images of grieving mothers searching for their children is just too painful? When is it ok to stop asking for donations on my facebook status?

My life, my troubles and even my joys seem so trivial in comparison to the great need and the great struggle to survive going on right now in a country that I love. But who are we kidding? That same struggle goes on every single day by millions around the globe. It has since I started blogging. It has for a thousand years before that.

And I suppose that is the thought I cling to most, this reminder that if you are reading this, you are lucky. You are one of the richest people on the globe. If you can afford a computer and internet and even macaroni for your next meal you are in the top 5% in world wide wealth. If you have a safe place to sleep tonight, you are one of the lucky. By a twist of fate I happen to have been born into a country that gives me medical care I expect and education I can take for granted. Are you appreciative of what you undeservedly have?

To whom much has been given, much is required.