Driving home from Toronto on Sunday, we stopped in Kingston to have some sud pper and let the kids run around and stretch. It was pouring rain, so the great playground that we had found on the way down was out. It was getting close to five when we rolled in, and many things were closing(damn small town). We ended up going to the mall and then the McDonald’s playplace. Not what we wanted, but we were limited in knowledge.

The run around – energy burn was not quite what we wanted, but we hit the road again. About 20 minutes into the drive, Woo pipes up that he needs to “pee on a tree”. We figured that this was a ploy to get us to let him out of the seat and run around, so explained that it was raining, and we would stop if he really needed to, but would keep going if it could wait. It could, and we kept going.

A minute later I hear Goose’s little voice say “need to poop”. This is more serious, given the toilet training that is going on, so I turn and and ask her if we need to stop so she can poop on the potty. She looks right back at me, and very seriously says, “No, I need to poop on a tree!”

The laughing lasted at least 20KM, mostly because she would repeat it every time Woo and I stopped laughing.

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Alt title: it’s my blog and I can whine if I want to.

My vacation is starting to drag on, and I’d really like to go home now. There, I said it. I’ve been thinking it, but it feels good to get it out. I’d like to be able to say that it is because my father-in-law is sick, but it isn’t.  It isn’t even because Goose is sick and not even close to her usual self, that Woo is being a monkey at times, that the weather is warm and two-thirds of the windows don’t open, that I don’t get to do my own thing, or that I am stuck sleeping in a single bed in Woo’s room.  It is really none of those things.

I am just done with being here.  I love my in-laws, but I just never feel like I fit in, like I live up to expectation.  It wears on a person. Prior to the trip I tried to prepare myself for this, and I think I have done a pretty good job, but I see that coming to an end.   I know that I should grow a thicker skin, but it has been 12 years, so I don’t see that happening.

I am going to focus on the positive, and hope that I can power through it.  I know that my crappy time is contagious too.

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My father-in-law is sick. He has been fighting cancer for a little over a year now, and he is not winning that battle. We arrived at my in-laws yesterday and I was shocked at his appearance. We were here a month ago and he looked good! Really good, better than he had since he his diagnosis. Yesterday he was tired, pale, thin, and weak looking. I know it might just be that this latest round of chemo has just kicked him in the ass, but I know it might be that the cancer is winning. He was holding his own, and even winning a few rounds, but now I am not sure.

I am afraid. Afraid for him, for my mother-in-law, for Willy and his brothers, and for the kids. I have always had an “interesting” relationship with him, but I am not ready for this. I don’t want to lose him, for all of us to lose him. This is the first visit that we have had since this crappy fight started that I feel might be the last. I don’t really think that, but the thought has occured to me in passing.

I hate cancer.

UPDATE: I still hate cancer, but am feeling better about my FIL.  He is sick, but has a lot of fight in him.  I know that a good attitude is really important, and he has that on most days.  New chemo was started right after we left, and we can hope that this is the right mixture for him, the one that will knock it into remission.

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Last summer Woo went through a finicky phase, right around this point in the summer.  The gardens were bursting with fresh produce (ok, ours was occasionally producing a tomato, bean, or leaf of lettuce), and Woo decided that decided that he would not eat vegetables. Not even our staple ingredient, tomatoes.  It was time to get creative with new recipes and my hand blender.  The nights we failed outnumbered the successes, so we rejoiced in the successes.

Zucchini is one of the vegetables that we were consuming in vast quantities.  This suited me, as I could eat grilled zucchini every day. The rest of the family needed a bit of variety in the presentation.  I was very excited to find a recipe for pureed zucchini soup.  It was simple and flavourful, and a hit with Willy and Woo.

The challenge was that I had to sell it to Woo.  It was pretty obvious that it was a vegetable soup.  The secret wasn’t the ricotta that was dolloped on top, the pesto drizzle, or the fresh bread for dipping.   It was the secret ingredient in the soup.  Cinnamon, of course.  The little man loved it, and as soon as I called the dish cinnamon soup he was sold. We ate a lot of cinnamon soup last night, all of us grinning at the knowledge that we had put one over on each other.

Tonight we had cinnamon soup again. Goose has been fighting her veggies of late, but LOVES cinnamon…

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Long day today, but one of those days that make me remember why I do what I do, and why I keep doing it.  The reality is, I did very little.  Instead of heading to the office, I drove to a prison to accompany a client to a parole hearing.  She was attending on behalf of her family, the rest of whom were unable to attend.  I was attending to support her in any way I could.

She was the picture of strength, silently sitting through a process where the man who murdered her family member was allowed to say whatever he wanted in an effort to convince the parole board that he should be granted full parole.  I know that she wanted to defend her loved one, to refute the lies.  She could not, as the rules do not allow her to comment on the actual hearing.  Instead, she was forced to sit and listen.  She did so stoically, needing little from me.

At the end of the long hearing she was given the opportunity to read the statement that she had prepared weeks prior, her victim impact statement.  It is a very brief opportunity to share her feelings and her pain in an effort to help the board understand the true impact of homicide.  It was raw and honest, given a true reflection of some of the harm felt by this family.  We can never know how much or little this statement influenced the board’s decision.  They denied this offender’s request today, to the relief of the client and her family.

I am immensely proud of the work that I do to help victims navigate the criminal justice process.  In this instance, I offered emotional support, normalized her grief and her ever present anger, held her hand, but most importantly, I made sure that she knew she was not alone.  In a process that is so focussed on the offender, this victim needed to know that I was there for her, and only her. Today I did that.

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A few months ago I heard about an event in my ‘hood called “Touch a Truck”.  It is a half day event that lets kids (big and little) get up close and personal with trucks of all shapes and sizes.  The added bonus is that it is a fundraiser for Mothercraft, a local non-profit that supports families! It sounded right up our alley, given that Woo is completely in love with all things truck, and has been for years.   He regularly asks us to drive around searching for trucks, just so that we can catch a glimpse!

We knew that we had to go, so started our weekend with an early trip to the cottage that allowed us to come home on Saturday night and still feel like we had gotten a weekend in. It worked, and we had a great day on Saturday frolicking in and around the lake.  We left after supper and were home and settled in for the night by nine.  It felt like a Sunday night, so it was a bonus that we still had a whole day off today.

We hadn’t told the monkeys our plans, so this morning I teased them with a few details. Woo had a pretty good idea that there would be trucks where we were going, so he was pretty keen and easy to get out the door.  We had to drive by the truck set up to find parking and it was impressive!  You could hear all the horn honking before you could see the trucks, and then you were on top of them – a massive display of trucks and machines!  There were fire trucks, loaders, street sweepers, police vehicles, the bookmobile, buses, street sweepers, army trucks, race cars, tractors and a crane!

We spent the better part of two hours moving from vehicle to vehicle to vehicle, climbing in some, and just checking out others.  There were a good number of people there, but most of the lines were not too long, and most of the parents were really good about keeping things moving.  I was sad that the kids didn’t get to fully explore every vehicle until they were tired of them, but think that the balance of seeing so many outweighs that.  In the end, the only desired one that we missed getting in was the crane.  The line for it was far too long, we would not have made it.  I think that Woo’s favourite parts were the horns, he’s a honker!

While this day was more for Woo, I was pretty impressed with how happy Goose was with all the trucks, and how eagerly she crawled into the majority of them. She was so happy to be doing something that her big brother was doing too.  She is fearless!

I was pretty sad at the quality of the pictures that I took today – I was rushed, I brought the wrong lens, and the auto focus on my DSLR is wonky at times.  I did get a goodly number of pictures of the trucks to stick on the digital frame for when Woo is wanting to see pictures of trucks, and there were a couple of decent ones of the kids.  None capture the joy that the lil bunnyrabbitz felt today – little stinkers have decided that they don’t smile for the camera anymore!

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Yes, this is the third time that I have attempted to write a blog.  I think that I am slightly more committed now, so we will see how this goes.  I haven’t quite figured out where I am going with this, but I imagine that there will be a heavy focus on my family, as they are my main focus in life… but also some stuff on me, and my passions.    I also need to record some of the crazy things that my littles say and do.

Today my little man, Woo, was trying to avoid his quiet time.  This entailed many trips to the bathroom, several calls for new toys and a couple of complaints that his toys were pulling his hair!  On one of the trips to the bathroom, he stopped in the hall, patted my belly and asked if there was  baby in my tummy. I assured him that there was not.  He gave me a sage look and said, “Oh, is it A LOT of lunch then?”  He then returned to his room and promptly fell to sleep.  Clearly this was weighing on his mind and he needed to get to the bottom of it.

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