Since the hockey game SUCKS, I thought it might be time to update the story of our lives.

We have new cars. Well, one is new and one is new-to-me. We traded our giant, socially irresponsible, gas-guzzling van for a new Mazda 3 for Trevor and a5-year-old Mazda Protege for me. Mine was extra exciting, despite its silver four-door-ed-ness because it has Command Start, which the dealership didn’t know about. I can’t imagine using it very often, because I really think that letting a car idle is almost as obnoxious as driving one that is too big for your needs (there is no livelihood that I can think of that would require a Hummer in its practice). And besides, I’m cheap. And it was free. The car is great, though. It saves me an hour a day in commuting (half of which I spend in bed, despite my best intentions to get up at the usual time and be productive), and interestingly, I suddenly feel like a real grown-up, rather than a kid just playing house. I’m independent. Adults have cars, and now I have one. I take my briefcase to my car and drive to work and home. Sometimes I even get to pick up the kids from daycare for a change. I must be an adult. Good realization, just in time for my thirty-fifth birthday.

We have new pets. One of our doggies died in December, and the other was on the block (but I changed my mind at the last minute) and the kids lobbied successfully for a replacement. The school hamster had many babies, and Aimee saved her money and watched pet store flyers, and did some comparison shopping, and got a hooley-dooley cage and a free hamster from school. Along with its brother. At least we hope it’s a brother. So now, we have a dog (Basil), a cat (Boozer), a fish (unnamed and about five years old) and two dwarf hamsters (Aloysius and Findley). Aloysius (or “Allowishis” as Aimee spells it) is pretty cute and reasonable friendly. Findley is a little more viscious and always slightly greasy. They live in separate cages now and are extremely cute and quite industrious and fascinating to watch. Findley also has gummy eyes today, so I hope he isn’t sick. I wash my hands a lot these days.

Work is good. I am quite enjoying my job these days. I am molding my doctor into someone who is good to work with and in the meantime, I am liking the patients and learning a lot. Chemo is quite a bit different from radiation. The patients are a lot sicker, so there are lots of professional challenges. I’ve also been accepted to graduate school in the fall, so that will cut into my blogging time even more (sorry). Oh, and I was appointed to the executive of our provincial professional organization for oncology nurses to be the editor of a provincial newsletter. Oh, and I passed a major exam to become one of the five nurses at work to become Ceritfied Oncology Nurses (or certifiable, maybe). Apparently it’s a huge deal in the oncology nursing community. It’s been busy around here.

Jack has had a dreadful school year in kindergarten, with an unenthusiastic teacher and a huge class. As an example, his class got to watch the finale of American Idol during school time. Excellent use of teaching time, don’t you think? They got an earful from me and I got the impression that the principal hadn’t known about it until my email and that the teacher was directed to apologize and promise it would not happen again. Very satisfying, if it wasn’t such a perfect example of the substandard education he’s gotten this year. Remarkably, his hideous behaviour stage seems to be fading. We have more civilized days than horrid ones lately, and although he talks incessantly, he hasn’t called me a stupid idiot in a while, and actually spends more time playing than isolated for making bad choices. Aimee has turned into a really nice little girl too (it was touch and go there for a while with her too). She had her eighth birthday last month, and one of her friends gave her a toy that she already had. She thanked her politely and was suitably grateful, not mentioning that she already had one. Jack pipes up, “Aimee, you already have that!” and she, looking mortified, says, “Shut up, Jack, I do not!” just to save her friend’s feelings. It gives me hope that they might turn out to be civilized adults. Tonight was their last karate class, and Aimee is still in gymnastics, and both are in swimming.They are active kids.

Trevor finished school and graduated with distinction. He seems most relieved to be done, if not to be back to work. I think he secretly enjoyed it, though. He occasionally talks about going back for a grad degree. In physics. I might have to mock him mercilessly.

My spare time has been consumed with sewing and biking. I started a quilt, which will end up small and pathetic if it ever gets finished, because I discovered I do not have the patience to cut fabric into precisely measured little shapes and sew them back together again. I would like to finish it, though. Just to say I did. Then, I was in Old Navy and saw all sorts of cute clothes that looked like they were made of $0.50 worth of fabric, so I went and bought a few remnants and have so far made a skirt (for about $2.50), complete with zipper, a pair of pajama shorts and a pair of pjs for Aimee (which were originally for me but they didn’t fit). I made up my own patterns, too, which is remarkable for such a spatially-challenged person. For exercise these days, after my triumph at the half marathon relay I ran in April (6.5 miles in 59:39 – with my fastest mile done in 8:04 – a personal record) I am sick of running, so I have been biking. I am riding in the MS Bike Tour in August which is a 185 km round trip done over 2 days to raise money for MS. I will publish the link to my donation page, if anyone wants to sponsor me. So I need to prepare my butt for 4-5 hours of cycling for each of two days in a row. It’s harder than I thought. Pretending I’m Lance Armstrong (or chasing him) helps.

So that’s why I haven’t written much lately. I’m busy and tired. Now I’m going to watch the last five minutes of Game Two of the Stanley Cup Final and mourn the passing of the Oilers’ fantastic run. Trevor predicts that Roley will make a miraculous recovery and play Game 3. I sure hope he’s right.


About therapeuticrambling

I am a wife, a mom, a nurse, a writer. I enjoy laughing.
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