Seven Not So Quick Takes Friday

1. Last night was a busy one. When I refer to 'night', I mean the hours between 1 am and 5 am. At approximately 1 am, Hannah came to find me to tell me that she could not sleep as Joseph was crying. I sent her back to bed and took Joe into mine. I refer to it as my bed since Dave, at this point, was fast asleep on the couch having collapsed at some point in the report card process. (I turned out the living room lights for him so that he could sleep soundly.) I took Joe into our bed as his breathing seemed a little strange: he has a cold and his airways sounded sort of obstructed. When I say obstructed, I mean more like that sound that Big Bird makes when he sleeps. Nevertheless, Joseph was unable to fall asleep in our bed and I was having a hard time soporifically with him lying across my chest while desperately searching for locks of my hair to scrunch. So, I placed him back in his crib; put Hannah in my bed; and got under the covers of the bed just vacated by the little girl.

Sleep eventually came but not before I had mentally composed most of these Quick Takes and said several decades of the Rosary. At around 4:30 am, I woke up for a bathroom break and heard a whimpering, "Mama, Mama," coming from Benjamin. It took a while to locate this boy but I eventually found him in my bed wondering why there was a much smaller version of his mother in Mama's place. I tucked him in and told him that he had found Hannah and to take comfort in that. I then got back into the bed in Joe's room but I soon was back up as I felt guilty about how briskly I had treated young Ben. So, I headed back into my room only to find an empty bed where Ben had been tucked in. Turns out, Ben had taken himself back to his own bed and was fast asleep (until 8am!!).

So, I shifted Hannah back into Joe's room and got into my own bed alone. And, I won't lie, I locked the door in the hope that any more waker-uppers might trip out to the living room to find their father. And, thus, I have decided that we will now hold a bed lottery at prayer time each night so that we can all share equal amounts of time in the six resting places of choice. Good solution? Anything for sleep. The funniest thing about nights like these is that I am the only one who ever remembers them. The kids always stare at me blankly with half smiles as if they're really thinking, "She's a little strange, isn't she?"

2. My mother-in-law just phoned. I answered the phone with, horror of horrors, something in my mouth. She said, and I quote, "Hello. How are you? What's in your mouth?"

I replied, "Parts of breakfast."

She, well used to the frantic nature of our life, said, "Good. As long as it's not lock-jaw."

I guess I should be thankful for the lack of tetanus-related diseases in our family at this point.

3. I have a site-meter on this blog and one of its functions is that of "World Map". This function allows me to see from where various readers come. I can figure out most of my readers via location: e.g. Halifax has got to be my mom and Texas is undoubtedly my older sister. But, there are a few locations about which I am left wondering. However, I don't think it's proper blogging etiquette to ask questions about one's readers (hint, hint, Northern Europe and Northumberland Strait). That's where I'll leave that as I lurk around a few blogs myself, and self-identification is not my wish.

4. We have Family Fun Night at the kids' school tonight. We pre-ordered hotdogs and a variety of other nitrite-filled fare as part of the fundraising. I only realised today that Family Fun Night is on a Friday. Oops, I guess we shouldn't be eating hotdogs. However, I don't think that hotdogs really qualify as meat and we did have quiche last night so I think we've fulfilled our obligatory penance. Dave will do a double penance as a school Family Fun Night is sort of like going to work twice in one day for him.

5. Remember how I mentioned that I had seen Jacob's x-ray and things didn't look quite right? Well, it turns out that I should think about entering the field of radiology. Our family doc called yesterday. Well, actually her secretary called but then she said, "Dr. M would like to speak with you, Elena." (This is really not what a hypochondriac likes to hear.) And here's the conversation:

"How are you, Elena?"

"Good." This is an outright lie as a call from the doctor can never allow one to be just good.

"So, we got the x-ray report back and things look to be healing well." Then why are you phoning...

"But ... the initial x-ray showed that the bone was healing at a 12 degree angle and this x-ray shows that it is now at a 29 degree angle."

"Oh. I have been waiting for your call; I snuck a peak at the x-ray and I could see that the angle was wrong."

"So, Jacob has an appointment at CHEO with the orthopaedic surgeon next Thursday. Dr. J isn't sure what he will do. But, if he does anything then Jacob will have a surgical re-break." Shucks.

"Thanks for calling. Have a good weekend."

Dr. Mac, laughing, "You too, Elena."

So, we haven't told Jacob and we won't until the appointment as he has carefully scheduled his summer around his expected cast removal date of June 19th. Who knows? But I have a feeling that swimming lessons are out of the picture this summer.

The funny thing is that I was talking to my sister about this and mentioned that I needed to phone my mother-in-law about childcare. My sister, who lives in Texas, volunteered to watch the kids and then quickly realised that we don't live anywhere near each other. While on the phone with this Texan sister, I caught Jacob trying to climb a tree and I yelled, "Get out of that tree. Your arm is already at a 29 degree angle..." Strange life, this.

6. I recently realised that my blogging efforts are much more entertaining and better written than my Honours History Thesis. I still cringe when I see my only-bound work on the shelf. I will never forget opening the bound copy and noticing that on page 54 all of the a's had somehow been turned to little squares. Did I mention that I found the kids using my degree (never removed from its cardboard roll) as a prop for a pirate game the other day?

7. After my last post, my commenters all mentioned that they found it quite funny that I always hope that postal packages for Dave are really gifts for me. Well, it's our seventh anniversary on Sunday and, guess what?: a mysterious package arrived in the mail and Dave was very nonchalant about it. I'll keep you informed. If it is not a gift for me, then this post will give my husband ample time to come up with something.