Sleepless in Stirling

Did I mention that I don't sleep? 2:18 am and I am up again. Friday nights of W.S. (wedding season) are the worst. I close my eyes and settle in, only to envision piping going through the sky, large rocks falling on cakes, or animals ravaging my kitchen. Tonight it was my husband changing lightbulbs dangling over the cakes - only it wasn't a dream. 11:45pm and he is changing lightbulbs.

So I went down, scowled at him, and went back to work, piping those dreams onto an actual cake.

When I was a teacher, it was Sunday nights that kept me awake. I'd procrastinate all weekend, and then at about 4pm on Sunday, the panic would set in and I'd have to do lesson planning, marking, reports, whatever, until the wee hours of the morning. Then the rest of the night I'd dream of everything I just crammed into my head.

There was a Calvin and Hobbs cartoon once that showed Calvin getting up for school, eating breakfast, getting dressed, brushing his teeth, etc...and then to wake up and realize he'd dreamt the whole thing! And now he had to do it all over again for real! With his tired little face he encompasses how I feel most Saturday mornings.

So here lies my list for tomorrow:

By 10am:

-bake 15 vanilla cupcakes

-ice in red buttercream swirls

-finish racing flags and add to cupcakes

-add eyes, lightning bolts, tire and hood details to lightning mcqueen

By noon:

-reattach flowers with royal icing

-prepare cake kit for delivery

-pipe green leaves

-deliver, picture optional

By 2pm:

-make strawberry bcream and ganache

-die ganache black

-torte, ice, cover and stack choc-straw cakes

-expect delivery of rose petals to attach

-take picture, deliver

-stack 4-tier (now piped) wedding cake

-attach flowers

-take picture, and deliver

Easy day, right? Let's hope I get each cake to the right place and the right time. Perhaps I will dream of that instead...

The Sob

sob |säb

-verb ( sobbed , sobbing ) [ intrans. ]

-cry noisily, making loud, convulsive gasps

There once was a sob. It was round, about the size of a tennis ball. It remained dormant for several years, letting life pass by, with a few of it's minion tears slipping to the surface, once in a while. Like a dragon, it took deep breaths, calm with the knowledge of it's strength and fire. Then, little by little, strange noises and jolts vibrated down to where the sob lay. It's senses awoke, and it knew it was time to rise. The tunnel in which it had been hidden had filled in quite densely with grey matter; heavy and thick. The sob rolled and pushed, and fell back. Rolled and pushed, and fell back. Again and again. Strange noises would come and the grey matter would move aside, but then, jolted, would cover the sob again. The sob continued to push, but with the grey matter refusing to move, the sob rested, and waited. As time continued to pass, perhaps an hour or a day, eventually, vibrations would start to move the grey matter aside. Pulsing now, and pushing, the sob rose higher and higher. As it rose, it was easier and easier to move through the grey matter. Then suddenly, it stopped. The noises stopped, vibrations were whirring about, building up pressure, but the sob remained just below the surface. The sob remembers this feeling. That feeling of anticipation, waiting to break through, like the lava in a volcano. Uncaring of who it touches, striving for breakage, and preparing for uncontrollable shaking and weeping. It waited. Then, it happens. A shrill scream as all of the remaining grey matter is pushed aside, and eliminated. The skies open up and the sob rolls for the exit, pulsing and weeping until it explodes in both sound and matter, shaking its path with violent vibrations and soaking it with tears. The sound is immense as the wailing begins and fills the air with its woefulness. But soon, the air begins to clear. The wailing subsides, the vibrations calm, the weeping ends. Whiteness enfolds the surface of the tunnel, and folds itself inside filling up the emptiness left by the sob and grey matter. Peace is at this moment, and everything is quiet for now. The peace is embraced, and yet, it is known that somewhere in the future, another sob is quietly growing and waiting, pulsing and pushing, knowing that it too will erupt at the appropriate time in order to start the cycle of healing all over again.

To Love, Honour and Vacuum

Sheila Wray Gregoire wrote a fabulous, and for me, life-freeing book about housework, and getting your family to help. "To Love, Honour, and Vacuum" was a book I picked up at the local library to read during a camping trip a couple of years ago. I remember a friend speaking about it when she and I left our careers for our first bout of maternity leave and neither of us knew how to handle housework.

She liked it a lot, but I didn't read the book until my second child was 2yrs old: that's how much I wanted to learn about housework. BUT, when I finally got around to taking it off the shelf and reading it, I found it was not the rule book I thought it was. It did not say how many balls we are to hold in the air, or how perfect we need to be, our how our husbands must never know what we cannot do...

She did have a list, however frightening, of chores that should be done in the house at various times of the week or season (who knew we had to change the air filter on the furnace?). I glanced at it then and came back to it later.

I REALLY liked the part about a chore chart for the kids, and I still do. This was the life-saving part. My kids love the chore chart! They also love the rewards, however I am not as generous as Ms. Gregoire. If my kids still think money is measured by the amount of coins in their bank rather than the value of them - I am not giving them the same amount as their age. But the idea of their age determining the number of chores, and the type of chores is great! Gregoire suggests that even a youngster (my words) can wipe out the cupboards in the kitchen as a chore. It opened my eyes to how I could "use" (for lack of a better word) my kids, and teach them at the same time.

My 4-yr-old daughter's chores include, washing various windows, dusting the livingroom and keeping the coffee table tidy. My 6-yr-old son's chores are dusting the diningroom and stair rails, vacuuming the house and setting the table. They each have a pet to feed, and of course, they have their own rooms to look after, and they work together to load and unload the dishwasher. Now, do they do this on a consistent basis? No. Do they do it when I pull the chore chart out? Yes.

Mr. Man and I both have our places on the chart and the kids love pointing out our jobs. Their daddy leaves early in the morning so he is not present when they do their reviews, but they see evidences that he has taken out the garbage and recycling, and put a sticker on his place in the chart. It's cute!

So, as spring cleaning seems to be on my mind these days I thought I would make a personal list of things that need to get done:

1. dust the inside of the china cabinet and take off the door bumpers so the dust can't get in there anymore. (That'll work, right?)

2. Wash and wax the wood floors

3. Vacuum up on top of the cupboards (okay, I probably won't)

4. Shampoo the carpet, and put away for the warm season.

5. Wash windows (oh, yeah...delegated)

6. Gardening (google early spring tasks for gardening)

Okay so that's enough for this season, lol! Now, Ms. Gregoire says there are those chores that need to be done everyday - e.g. dishes, sweeping the kitchen, making supper. Those are the ones I always tackle, I promise. Hey, come on! I remember when I wore my jammies until 10am while on maternity leave! I've come far, baby!