It's been a while since I've had one of my panic attacks about death. I used to get them more often, but in the recent years, I seemed to have grown out of them.
I can vividly remember my two most difficult attacks. One was when I was in college. My one of my lovely roommates stayed up with me hours, watching me pace around our living room, muttering and blubbering about the futility of it all. The second one happened when I was living in Aspen and I made the mistake of watching the movie Alive. Again, I stayed up most of the night, pacing around our condo while my friend sat there making sure I didn't do anything stupid.
Since I've been with Hubster and had the kids, I haven't had these attacks very often. Perhaps it's because I'm too busy to dwell on what I can't control or it's that I see, upclose, the beauty in life everyday.
That being said, I am worried today. I'm anxious for my loved-one's loved one who faces a long battle today against an enemy who's strength is hidden.
I'm not sure how make anything better in this situation and I could sense these feelings of helplessness and fear creeping into my subconsciousness as I worried about it last night. Plus, watching two documentaries about death and illness last night didn't help. Nor did reading Mark Twain's 'The Mysterious Stranger' this past week.
Huster realized that I wasn't getting settled to sleep and asked what was going on. I quickly told him I was fighting off a panic attack about death and helplessness.
He paused for a second and then replied,
"But you're not dead."
Good point.
And neither is my loved-one's loved one.
I think I'll try and remember the quote from The Shawshank Redemption, "get busy living, or get busy dying." I've got to stop worrying about what I can't control.
I need to not let the unknown scare me.
I need to stop watching late night tv.
I need to send all my love and thoughts to my loved-one and her loved one.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
We Have Wee-Wee and Oui-Oui
I realize that this really isn't 'post worthy' but it's getting posted all the same.
Bubba Love today decided that he wanted to use the little potty. I stripped him down and plopped him on there not expecting much. To my surprise, he went wee-wee.
Of course, I was too busy browsing online for a three-wheeled dog sledding cart to notice right away so he promptly put all kinds of toys in there it. Nothing like sharing the joy of wee-wee with your favourite race car!
Actually, I'm thinking we may need to call this pee-pee rather than wee-wee since that is actually the name of his sleeping buddy, Oui-Oui.
There could be a whole realm of linguistical and hygene problems here.
Both boys are now in the bathroom together dicussing the finer points of having 'boy bits' while I'm hiding out here with The Princess. I'm hoping I can find us a nice pink dog sled...
The Resident Artist has updated his site. Enjoy!
Bubba Love today decided that he wanted to use the little potty. I stripped him down and plopped him on there not expecting much. To my surprise, he went wee-wee.
Of course, I was too busy browsing online for a three-wheeled dog sledding cart to notice right away so he promptly put all kinds of toys in there it. Nothing like sharing the joy of wee-wee with your favourite race car!
Actually, I'm thinking we may need to call this pee-pee rather than wee-wee since that is actually the name of his sleeping buddy, Oui-Oui.
There could be a whole realm of linguistical and hygene problems here.
Both boys are now in the bathroom together dicussing the finer points of having 'boy bits' while I'm hiding out here with The Princess. I'm hoping I can find us a nice pink dog sled...
The Resident Artist has updated his site. Enjoy!
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Mutiny
The dogs have once again removed all of their bedding out of the dog houses. This time it just looks like we are having a very not-white 'white sale' in the garden. Old drapes, blankets and rugs spread all over what was left of the grass. The two of them, sitting ever so calmly next to the gate with that, "What? Wasn't us" look on their faces.
Meanwhile, inside the kennel, er house, the kids are bouncing off the walls and I'm having a hard time remembering how to speak to them in a calm, controlled manner. They aren't happy with the non-sippy-cup-in-the-television-room rule that's been applied since Jan 1, 2008.
Think all this chaos must have something to with everyone going back to school this week. I'm ready to admit that I will never quite understand just what to do with a qui and a que less this thing dont.
It's only Tuesday but I surrender. I'm heading to the cave and I'm finding a nice bottle of Cotes du Rhone ...
Meanwhile, inside the kennel, er house, the kids are bouncing off the walls and I'm having a hard time remembering how to speak to them in a calm, controlled manner. They aren't happy with the non-sippy-cup-in-the-television-room rule that's been applied since Jan 1, 2008.
Think all this chaos must have something to with everyone going back to school this week. I'm ready to admit that I will never quite understand just what to do with a qui and a que less this thing dont.
It's only Tuesday but I surrender. I'm heading to the cave and I'm finding a nice bottle of Cotes du Rhone ...
Saturday, January 5, 2008
My Other Family
Had one of those moments today where I really wished I lived closer to my family. Turns out, I was supposed to help clean at Bubba-Love's day care and I agreed to meet the other parents there at 10am. Of course, Ms. Flighty over here forgets that
A.) Not only do Mini-Husband and The Princes still not have school but
B.) Hubster is working today.
Just who was I thinking was going to watch the little people?
Amen for the expats. Miss Tennessee 1975 and her fab husband kindly took my people for the morning so I could keep my promise to the other parents.
It is amazing how quickly I find we, the expats, say "yes" when another one of us needs something. It's as if we have this immediate understanding, we're all in the same boat, far from home (be it the US, England, Poland or Russia) and we become in situ aunts, cousins, sisters, and grandparents. We've been in each other shoes. We know how it is to be lost, confused, elated, embarrassed and angry, struggling with feeling stupid, feeling blessed, feeling alone.
It's always so hard when part of that family leaves again, heading back to real family and home. But till that time comes, the understanding is constant. The immediate "yes" is there. I only hope I can return all of the kindness that's been shown to me from all of them before they do leave for good.
Amen for my in situ family.
A.) Not only do Mini-Husband and The Princes still not have school but
B.) Hubster is working today.
Just who was I thinking was going to watch the little people?
Amen for the expats. Miss Tennessee 1975 and her fab husband kindly took my people for the morning so I could keep my promise to the other parents.
It is amazing how quickly I find we, the expats, say "yes" when another one of us needs something. It's as if we have this immediate understanding, we're all in the same boat, far from home (be it the US, England, Poland or Russia) and we become in situ aunts, cousins, sisters, and grandparents. We've been in each other shoes. We know how it is to be lost, confused, elated, embarrassed and angry, struggling with feeling stupid, feeling blessed, feeling alone.
It's always so hard when part of that family leaves again, heading back to real family and home. But till that time comes, the understanding is constant. The immediate "yes" is there. I only hope I can return all of the kindness that's been shown to me from all of them before they do leave for good.
Amen for my in situ family.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Whirling Dervish
It started in September.
Somehow 6 dinner knives disappeared. I'm fairly confident they went into the dishwasher, but I never saw them come out. I searched the garbage cans, I searched under the furniture. Nada. And to this day, they are still unaccounted for.
The other thing I'm sensing as odd is that we are regularly finding rolls of toilet paper in the toilet. Full rolls. Sopping wet and horrible to catch with your bare hands. We'd just bought a new packet of 6 rolls the other day. We have 2 left. The others went for a 'swim.'
The third thing that it setting my mind a little more unease, is that everytime I pick up a toy, a book, some shoes, clothes, a drawing, I find the same said item thrown back on the floor within 10 minutes. It's as if I have a phantom tornado following me around the house.
Yes, a phantom. And it's going to be 2 in February.
Somehow 6 dinner knives disappeared. I'm fairly confident they went into the dishwasher, but I never saw them come out. I searched the garbage cans, I searched under the furniture. Nada. And to this day, they are still unaccounted for.
The other thing I'm sensing as odd is that we are regularly finding rolls of toilet paper in the toilet. Full rolls. Sopping wet and horrible to catch with your bare hands. We'd just bought a new packet of 6 rolls the other day. We have 2 left. The others went for a 'swim.'
The third thing that it setting my mind a little more unease, is that everytime I pick up a toy, a book, some shoes, clothes, a drawing, I find the same said item thrown back on the floor within 10 minutes. It's as if I have a phantom tornado following me around the house.
Yes, a phantom. And it's going to be 2 in February.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Happy New Year!
The celebrate the beauty of the holidays, The Resident Artist has updated his site. Enjoy!
Warmest wishes for a safe and wonderful 2008!
Warmest wishes for a safe and wonderful 2008!
It Must Have Been the Snow
Hubster and I headed over to the local ski area on Monday with the boys. The Princess had decided ahead of time that she would be cold outside in the snow so she'd be better off at a friend's house. She's got a good angle on how to get what she wants. She definately takes after me.
The drive to Super Besse follows a small river back up to it's origins in the mountains. The road winds along side past craggy rock outcropppings, through small villages built straight into the rock, and finally out at the town of Besse. It is one of our favourite places in the Auvergne.
Something in my being begins gets anxious as we approach the town. Perhaps it's the snow. Perhaps it's all the slate covered houses, dark and strong, stark in contrast to the whiteness of the ground. Perhaps it's just that I have this 'thing' for winter.
As we arrived at the actual ski area, I was struggling to control my urge to jump out of the car and start making snow angels in front of the lifts. After living 7 years in the Rockies, you can take the girl out of the mountains, but you can't take the mountains out of the girl.
Hubster and I decided to divide and conquer with the boys. He headed off for sledding with the little guy while Mini-Husband and I tackled the rope tow. Mini-Husband wants to know how to ski NOW. He wants to be fast NOW. He wants to know how to turn left and right NOW. I stuck with my mantra that falling is learning and we weaved our way across the bunny slope without serious damage to him, someone else, or me.
Hubster arrived and we traded off the little Coors Lite can. Bubba Love's ski suit is yet another of our Patton Originals, handed down from my nephews. This said ski suit is silver and resembles a mini-beer can. I have vivid memories of nephew being in it in the Tetons. He's now almost 8 but the suit is still going strong.
As I stood there watching my boys playing in the snow, I became horribly depressed. I miss living in the mountains. I miss being able to walk in the snow everyday. I miss the sound of snow crunching under my boots. I miss seeing the silhouettes of the trees frozen in white. I miss dealing with the chaos of skiing and dog sledding on a daily basis. I miss the mountains.
It's hard for me to think that I will never live that way again. Finding a way of combining my past, which created me, with my present and future, which completes me, is a task I need to tackle.
I think Hubster picked up on my mood as we were packing up the car to head home. It must be very hard for him to deal with my obsession of all things mountain.
But bless him. At his suggestion, we've made plans to head back to Besse on Sunday. He really is good to me.
The drive to Super Besse follows a small river back up to it's origins in the mountains. The road winds along side past craggy rock outcropppings, through small villages built straight into the rock, and finally out at the town of Besse. It is one of our favourite places in the Auvergne.
Something in my being begins gets anxious as we approach the town. Perhaps it's the snow. Perhaps it's all the slate covered houses, dark and strong, stark in contrast to the whiteness of the ground. Perhaps it's just that I have this 'thing' for winter.
As we arrived at the actual ski area, I was struggling to control my urge to jump out of the car and start making snow angels in front of the lifts. After living 7 years in the Rockies, you can take the girl out of the mountains, but you can't take the mountains out of the girl.
Hubster and I decided to divide and conquer with the boys. He headed off for sledding with the little guy while Mini-Husband and I tackled the rope tow. Mini-Husband wants to know how to ski NOW. He wants to be fast NOW. He wants to know how to turn left and right NOW. I stuck with my mantra that falling is learning and we weaved our way across the bunny slope without serious damage to him, someone else, or me.
Hubster arrived and we traded off the little Coors Lite can. Bubba Love's ski suit is yet another of our Patton Originals, handed down from my nephews. This said ski suit is silver and resembles a mini-beer can. I have vivid memories of nephew being in it in the Tetons. He's now almost 8 but the suit is still going strong.
As I stood there watching my boys playing in the snow, I became horribly depressed. I miss living in the mountains. I miss being able to walk in the snow everyday. I miss the sound of snow crunching under my boots. I miss seeing the silhouettes of the trees frozen in white. I miss dealing with the chaos of skiing and dog sledding on a daily basis. I miss the mountains.
It's hard for me to think that I will never live that way again. Finding a way of combining my past, which created me, with my present and future, which completes me, is a task I need to tackle.
I think Hubster picked up on my mood as we were packing up the car to head home. It must be very hard for him to deal with my obsession of all things mountain.
But bless him. At his suggestion, we've made plans to head back to Besse on Sunday. He really is good to me.
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