It's the most difficult time of the year

I know that's a real downer of a post title but sometimes it feels that way. So much to do, all crammed into a month. It is as if we save up everything for Christmas, all the get togethers, gift giving, card sending and family time instead of spreading it out over the whole year. And the stress of spending too much money, eating too much food, drinking too much wine and getting too little sleep explodes all at once in a geyser of twinkle lights, reindeer and Holiday-themed made-for-TV movies.

I go into a pre-Christmas funk every year. It starts with all the ads on TV and the spreads in magazines about entertaining for the holidays (I hate saying holidays, we celebrate Christmas and so do all the people making the ads and spreads judging by the copious amounts of tinsel and pine boughs in them). It seems like everyone else is invited to a myriad of glittering parties that require new outfits and beautifully wrapped gifts and getting one's hair done. Not in my world.

I am waffling on whether to throw another Winter Solstice party, actually we had an "End of the World, So Say the Mayans" party last year and it was great fun. It lasted until 3am and all I did was fire up the fondue pot and the chocolate fountain. This year the Solstice is on Saturday, December 21st and I'm worried that there might be a lot of other parties that people are going to that night, parties that we aren't invited to (sorry, that's my pathetic voice coming out). It's just that the calendar is looking a little bare right now but maybe other people are waffling like me.

And being the child of divorced parents always makes for challenges. This year my sister heads west to Calgary to be with her in-laws and my brother is in Victoria and neither of our parents have ever gone out for Christmas for some reason. My Dad has a fiancée and that in itself makes things even more complicated, some of her family is here and they don't seem to be much for making plans in advance or including others which is fine but I can't imagine my Dad not being with his grandsons on at least part of Christmas Eve, morning or night. My Mum will be with us and Dad knows this and seems okay but I don't know about his fiancée. Hopefully they can work it out, I'm not getting involved, I just ordered a big turkey and will hope for the best. The boys will be chomping at the bit to hit the slopes on Boxing Day and then ski season beings in earnest with early mornings and lots of running from race to race. And to add to the general chaos, boat show season also kicks in right after New Years so my Other Half will be away for weeks at a time.

Sorry, this really has become a pity party, I always seem to have to get it out of my system before I dive head long into the fray. I've started my Christmas shopping and I am going down to the city for a dinner with my high school friends which should be fun even if it's on a Tuesday night and everyone has to go to work in the morning (there's that pathetic voice again). And I am joining S. in Florida on Saturday for  four days and although most of it is business I found a great deal on a lovely B&B for one night so it will feel a little more like a break to recharge our batteries before the Christmas chaos begins.

So it is beginning to feel a lot like Christmas and I know that's a good thing despite the Grinchiness I go through every year.

More Perspective

Too much going on and not enough time or energy to do it these days. It doesn't help that it feels like its been raining for over a month. Those gorgeous sunny Indian summer days are a distant memory. Now it's day after day of grey, brown and damp. Hard not to be down with three boys trapped inside every afternoon and weekend. I find myself doing way too much yelling while they bicker, watch too much TV and spend hours, it seems, on line watching ski videos. The snow can't come soon enough.

S.T.B.T. (Stupid Teenage Boys Tricks)

Number One Son is stressed as his school crams what normally take three months into six weeks but they leave for Maine on December 1st to ski til Christmas so I have reminded him that no complaining will be tolerated at any time.

Number Two will be lucky if he survives until he leaves for a week in Vermont on December 7th. He is busy at school with classes, volleyball and dry land training two afternoons a week. He, unfortunately, is not the most organized and when the going gets tough he would rather give up than figure out how to manage everything. He is so talented and smart but he makes things so much harder on himself and everyone around him.

Number Three is plugging away, counting down the days til he gets to ski. Unfortunately due to his knee injury we and his coaches have decided that he should not go on the trip to Mont Tremblant with the team to train because of the risk of terrible conditions which could potentially cause more damage and ruin his entire season. So he will be home on his own while his brothers are away and now it appears I will be away for part of that time too but I am hoping he can stay with his buddy across the street while I head south to help my Other Half at a boat show. If it works out everyone might just be happy for a few days.

It's hard to keep things in perspective. Juggling time and money these days is all consuming. The business is on the verge of major growth which is wonderful and terrifying at the same time. My OH is up at dawn and into the new plant where everyone is working so hard to get things up and running again after the move. Scott leaves for Florida on Wednesday til Sunday for another show and my Dad & I will be representing the company at a fundraiser in the city Friday night, introducing out latest product to a very discriminating crowd. Saturday I hope to visit Ben's friend, H who was finally discharged from the hospital and will be able to stay at home and do his rehab as an out patient. He is making great strides in his recovery and we are all so thankful for that.

The team raising the flags at the new plant

Saturday night my Mum (aka Geeya) is hosting a grandchildren's sleepover with my boys, my sister and Mum's best friend's grandchildren. Wendy died 15 years ago and never met her two grand-daughters and so Mum promised that she would treat them as her own. Now their grandfather has been diagnosed with inoperable cancer and we don't know how long he has left so spending time together seems even more important. Of course, now that the kids are almost all teenagers the sleepover is a little more difficult with my boys less interested in hanging out with the girls but they all love going to "Geeya's" farm and maybe, fingers crossed, it won't rain and they won't be stuck inside the whole time.

The Grandchildren in their PJ's circa 2004

Perspective

It's hard to imagine what it would be like to hear that your child has a brain tumour after a simple trip to the eye doctor and within 48 hours you find yourself at the Hospital for Sick Children, a place you always knew was there if you needed it but never thought it would be your son being wheeled into surgery. I learned about my former neighbour and friend's son's diagnosis the morning he was to be operated on. It all happened so quickly and anyone who doubts our health care system should stop reading the horror stories that are constantly trumpeted both here and south of the border and listen to the positive and quiet ones that happen here every day whether it be a life-threatening situation or not.

D and her son, one of Ben's oldest friends, experienced the terror of a diagnosis, emergency surgery to remove a 4cm tumour close to the brain stem and a week to hear if it was cancerous. It was benign, thank goodness and he will make a full recovery. But, once again, it puts everything into perspective as my family struggles day to day with sibling rivalry, homework drama, teenage angst and a small business on the very of becoming not-so-small.

H and my eldest grew up side by side, first skiing and then across the street from one another for the last six years. He is my fourth son, another brother to my boys, acting like one for better or for worse. His nickname was "Eddie" after Leave it to Beaver's Eddie Haskell as he was unfailingly polite to adults but you always knew he was up to something. This year his family decided to move back to the city and H went off to boarding school while my son also left their local high school to attend a ski academy. Being boys, I don't think they communicated much over the summer or while Ben was away in Switzerland and we found out about the tumour and surgery the day Ben was arriving home. Of course, because of Facebook, all the kids knew about what H was going through and my worry about how to tell Ben was for not. I don't think he fully understood the seriousness of what was happening to H but he kept asking to read the updates that were being sent by a friend of H's mother. We all worried that H would lose his luxurious head of hair (he did not, the surgeon only had to make a small incision on the back of his head) and if it was cancer what would happen next. Luckily that's not something anyone has to worry about.

We went down to the hospital to see H on Sunday with another school friend and his Mum and had a short visit. H got out of bed to go for a walk with his buddies, trailing an IV pole and talked quite naturally and Ben, who had earlier asked me, if it was such a great hospital for kids, why they didn't have anything like a basketball net, now understood what it had all meant.

Soon H will be moved to a rehabilitation hospital and is expected to make a full recovery. He may or may not go back to boarding school in January and he won't be back on skis for a while but he will be fine and his very droll sense of humour has already started to return. Ben has made it through his first full week of classes after seven weeks in the Alps and life is settling down once again.

I haven't felt like blogging for a long time but it seemed like a natural thing to allow me to express my fears and feelings swirling around. I have said before that as the kids get older the challenges get more serious and it has never been truer. I have missed writing and even though I know my blog title has never been truer I think I might get back into a routine of writing. We'll see.

Summer so far ...

It's only week two for us but so far it hasn't been too painful. Packing up to head out to a friend's cottage this afternoon, I finally get to be someone else's guest for a few days! Then next week we are taking Numbers 2 & 3 on a boat delivery to CT with a stop at an amusement park. No. 1 is hard at work in summer school and seems to be liking the work at your own pace environment. They are given a unit per week to work on, ask any questions and then they are tested on Friday. He will start his English course at the end of August, reading Lord of the Flies and A Midsummer's Night Dream, both of which I actually have my original copy of, marginalia and all!

Here are a few of the the very few photos I have taken (all on my iPhone) mostly because my children run screaming every time I try to take a picture and also because I haven't bothered to drag my SLR camera along with me anywhere. But I am taking it with me on this trip and I will again next week, in hopes that there isn't a gaping hole in the photographic evidence of my children's pre-teen and teenage years which they will be sure to reprimand me later for.

Last Day of School Cookout at the Beach

A flower box makes the peeling paint of the boathouse look charming, don't you think?

Hard at work on a new bridge to our cabin

Mountain bike riding 

The Outsiders circa Grade 5

No. 3 Son with his ski racing idol who graciously allowed him to hold the Crystal Globe. 

The trophy for being the best ski racer on the planet!

So much to be thankful for

Up here in the Great (not quite) White North we celebrated Thanksgiving this past weekend and for many people, including my family, it is the time when cottages are closed up for the winter. It is a bittersweet time of year, the days are crystal clear and cold. The fall colours are at their peak and the smell of wood smoke fills the air, along with turkey cooking and pies baking. It is my favourite time of the year, this coming Sunday my Other Half and I will celebrate our 23rd wedding anniversary and I will have officially spent half of my life with this man as we were married when I was a mere 23 years of age (not 12, as I like to say). The pool is closed, the sailboat in dry dock, my horse is wearing his winter blanket most days, I have on boots and a cozy sweater and the boys are gearing up for ski season. 

Yes, it is bittersweet to say goodbye to summer but I couldn't imagine living anywhere else. I love the changing seasons, each one bringing something to look forward to. Here are a few photos of fall in our neck of the woods.

One lone red maple leaf on a bed of pine needles floating in the lake

Ready for a canoe trip

The raison d'etre for having a teenage boy

(he doesn't mind swimming in frigid water to take out the raft)

Final early morning row on the lake

Putting the cabin to bed for a long winter's nap

(and hoping it's still standing in the spring)

Leaf jumping for joy

The work crew finally gets to climb up on the roof

Cam on a cold tin roof

The floor show

A Change for the Better

It seems like everyone I know, including my friend AM who is lying in the hospital recovering from a broken leg and stroke, wants to do a triathlon. Me? Not so much. I'm just happy that I've gotten out of bed two mornings in a row and walked the dog before 8am. I feel like I am missing an essential part of being a  2000 and teens middle-aged woman. Everyone is either running a marathon, cycling the Centurion or planning a trip to climb K2. Me? I just want to stop feeling crappy all the time which makes me very grumpy. I finally went to the doctor this week and told him about all the strange pains I have been having all over my body. He didn't laugh or look at me with pity (he's a cyclist who broke his neck riding his bike a few years ago and is right back in the saddle) He did sign me up for a bunch of blood work as well as x-rays and an ultrasound so I guess he's taking this seriously and I did actually go and get the blood and x-rays done so that's a start. I don't want to find out that there is something wrong with me I just want to know that the aches and pains are normal or can be fixed by losing weight or getting more reasonable amounts of exercise.

It's hard to feel sorry for yourself when a friend is looking at months and months of recovery but who is still insisting her husband sign her up for hockey next winter. I spoke to AM's sister, M yesterday and she feels the biggest roadblock to AM's recovery is that she won't let go of all her motherly duties and focus on herself. She sends texts and emails in the middle of the night reminding her sister about the kids' schedules, she is worrying about what they are eating, wearing and doing every minute of the day which, of course is what all we mothers do but she has to try and relinquish these things to her sister and husband. The kids are being well cared for although it may not be exactly the way she would be doing it. But, as M said, "Their lives are not going to be the same, their mother is in the hospital and things have changed." The question down the road will be whether it may even be a change for the better. Like most families we know, AM's was as active as active can be. Four kids, all in sports, music lessons, extra tutoring and I mentioned they had just gotten a new puppy, right? Dad commutes by train downtown every day, they have a country place they use year round. They are, in short, healthy, athletic and everything you are supposed to strive for except that it might have all been too much. The doctors don't know what caused AM's stroke, they haven't found a connection to the surgery on her leg but her sister's theory is that it was a sign that AM needed to slow down for her own and the whole family's sake.

My Other Half's reaction to all this has been a little surprising. He, of course, is up to his eyeballs in boat orders and deliveries, he just did a 24 hour turn around, driving from here to New Hampshire and back. But he has hardly asked about AM and I wonder if it's because he doesn't want to think about the what if's. What if it was me in the hospital or even, what if it was him? His life is as stressful as they come, running his own business, responsible for four dependents as well as eight employees. He has never handled this time of year very well. He just hunkers down and plows through it with little time to rest, relax or even smile some days. AM certainly wasn't as extreme as my OH, she allowed herself to have fun, unfortunately one of the things she loved to do for herself was the thing that landed her in the hospital. Of course we don't know whether she would have had the stroke whether she had broken her leg or not but for me I worry that my OH is heading for a breakdown every year about this time.

So, as well as looking after myself, I have to make sure I keep an eye on S. Our sailboat was launched on Sunday, rechristened with a more appropriate name (although according to marine protocol we have invited back luck by not getting a virgin to pee on the deck before she went back in the water) and I have made it my mission to get S. out in it twice as many times as last year. Meaning eight times which is completely doable from now until October haul out. Just because we are in the boat business doesn't mean we get to spend all our time on the water and it is out there that S is really able to relax and do nothing. So in the interest of our  health and well-being I vow to keep walking in the mornings and get S to join me when he is home. We will have fun with the boys and not spend all our time running them around from activity to activity.

Tomorrow I am going to see AM for the first time and I am taking some lilacs and lily of the valley from the garden for her room, cheese (of course) and lots of fresh fruit. Hopefully I will be able to wheel her outside for a little picnic and fresh air. And when I get home I want to tell S all about my visit so that he can understand how important it is for both of us to take care of ourselves and each other.

What Makes a House a Home

I've finally changed the banner photo on this page since the snow is long gone and when we rode yesterday I noticed that the apple trees that were in the old picture are about to bloom. Time marches on whether we are ready or not. The photo I chose for the banner is one I scanned on the weekend when I spent the day at my Mum's house looking through old albums. We are putting together a Memory Book for her 70th birthday later this month and I was in charge of discreetly making copies of her pictures. I gave up on the discreet and finally told her I needed to dig out all the albums. We sat together as I scanned and laughed and talked about the pictures. She and her parents were avid photographers although, truth be told, they took fantastic nature shots but crappy shapshots. Many of them were original 3x3 prints and not great quality but my brother who is putting together the book assures me he can "antique" them or something so they look cool, not out of focus.

It was a bittersweet day, my parents divorced 15 years ago after 32 years of marriage and no one ever really understood why. It was hard going through all the old family photos especially the ones of them together. They were so young, my Mum was only 24 when I was born and I realized as I looked through the years that she only a year older than I am now when I got married.

The photo is of the farmhouse where I grew up in one of its earliest incarnations. It was added on to many times, the front porch was redone in a style more befitting its Georgian roots and the gardens became more and more elaborate. I love the photo because it shows how simple things were when my parents first moved us out of the city to what most people then considered the sticks (it's now hemmed in by subdivisions). Mum stayed there after my Dad moved out for a few more years before she sold it and built a new house. The farm was the most incredible place, the centre of our world no matter how far we travelled (see previous post). My Other Half and I moved back in several times in between houses and my Mum made sure we always had a room. She actually left our childhood rooms much as they were when we were growing up. My had the same striped wallpaper and floral trim along the ceiling, the only change was she put in a queen sized bed for us.

Last night I asked my kids for their memories of the farm where they spent weekends and holidays with their grandmother. It's strange to think that they don't associate it with my Dad even though he was one the one who physically created it while Mum gave it soul. He was the engine and she was the heart. He built the riding ring, taught me to drive standard in the back field while she threw wonderful parties and welcomed all our friends. We used to joke about the "broken wings" Dad would find and bring home for Mum to look after. People having a tough time in life who would come to the farm and stay for as long as they needed to. Dad would travel, climb mountains, write books about it then return home to sit by the fire and talk with us or be at the head of the table expounding on his views while she was close by in the kitchen with friends putting together wonderful meals or making sure there were fresh flowers in the bedrooms.

Now that I am a wife, mother and have my own house I appreciate all the more what my Mum created at the farm. As a high school friend of mine said when I asked a few of them for their memories of Mum,

"We always knew that everyone was welcome at the farm, you never knew who would be there as it was a place people passed through, stayed to heal or came to feel the energy of the fun nights. That spirit of acceptance that Swebbs embodied permeated the farm and meant that, by extension, we all somehow felt that you could be yourself."

I worry that our house and, by extension, me are not that welcoming and accepting place for my kids and their friends which I know is so important as we go into the turbulent teenage years. My OH and I say that we want the boys to always be able to call home for a ride or help and we wouldn't question them. My parents created a safe haven for so many people but most importantly for my brother, sister and I and it's so important that we do the same for our children. And I know it's not the physical place that is important, it wasn't the farm because it had lots of bedrooms for people to crash or an indoor swimming pool or a barn full of toys. It was the feeling that my parents created whicheveryone experienced when they visited whether for an afternoon, overnight or a month. I've used the phrase "A Sense of Place" as a label for some posts but it was more than just the place, a farm is just a farm, a cottage just a cottage and an house isn't a home unless someone makes it one.

Christmas Construction and Creation

Every year the kids and my Other Half build a Gingerbread House from a package but this year Number One Son found a recipe and instructions to build a Ski Chalet and so we decided to give it a try.

Step One - Baking

Step Two - Assembly

Step Three - Decoration

More blanket pillows

Santa's Little Helpers at the Parade

Oh, go fly a kite!

After spending two wonderful days with the grown ups in our family at the wedding, we returned home to rescue my mother and aunt from the kids. We arrived at my Mum's place in time to eat turkey leftovers, fly kites and hit a few balls.

Mum, my brother and sister and the boys

What to do when there's no wind

Staying out of harm's way

See the little black thing my brother is holding up? That's his blackberry, he videoed the entire kite-flying expedition including when the dragon kite "attacked" the ATV as they slowed down. It's the little things that amuse us.

An 11 year old boy's idea of heaven (notice the cool shades)

Measuring the apple trees we planted last spring in honour of each grandchild

Golf anyone?

Whirlwind Weekend

Well, I survived the week and it was worth all the prep to leave the boys with my Mum and get away to this lovely place for the wedding of my cousin to the Innkeeper's daughter.

We arrived on Friday afternoon and had brought a boat (as one does) so that we could get out on the water to explore my Other Half's old stomping grounds. He grew up summering in the Thousand Islands and I spend quite a bit of time there as well when we teenagers. That was pre 9/11 when you could jump in the boat with only a driver's license for ID and head over to A Bay (Alexandria Bay) NY for a night of partying and then boat home dodging Great Lakes freighters when you end up in the shipping lane by accident.

My brother, SIL, sister and BIL enjoying a tour of the Islands

My Other Half's grandmother's island which, according to family lore, was bought for either $10 or $1000 in the thirties. Either way is was a great deal.

Me and my little bro who I don't get to see often enough since he moved to the west coast

Same brother breaking into our room to get the cocktail supplies while I was out searching for wrapping paper.

Not a bad looking bunch

Much later that same night my SIL and I discovered that the bride had requested the local chip wagon be parked outside the reception. Can't think of a better late night snack after drinking and dancing than a gooey paper box of poutine.

The wedding was lovely and the dress I borrowed was perfect. It fulfilled my demands that it look as good as it felt. It was like wearing Lululemon yoga clothes while looking pretty damn good even in comparison with the twenty-somethings in very short dresses and unbelievably high heels. We made it home on Sunday in time to put two turkeys on the BBQ and had 13 sit down for dinner without a hitch. Monday we looked after our friends' two boys while they went house-hunting and then piled everyone into the car to head to my Mum's for a late lunch of hot turkey sandwiches which really is what Thanksgiving is all about - the leftovers. Of course, our foodie friends outdid us on that one by instead of using plain old bread, they made popovers, took the tops off, put the turkey inside with cranberry sauce and poured gravy over the whole thing. So happy that they are are thinking of moving up to our area to start a new restaurant.

Happy Campers

We spent a wonderful weekend with my Other Half's family. 18 people in three cabins and two tents. Lots of fun, food and craziness. As the summer winds down I feel like we are just getting started. Soccer finishes next week so we will be free for the last 10 days before the kids go back to school. I waffle between wanting these days to last forever and wishing we had year round schooling. Oh well, I guess that's why this post is labelled, "It's about family."

Leaping for Joy

Tubing

Number Two up on water skis for the first time

Number One showing off

Finally - a real smile

My gorgeous nieces

The boats at Pointe au Baril

My Other Half in his element