5:27 am and awake

I have this very annoying habit. I'm a pretty light sleeper, so the minute one of the kids even so much as coughs, I'm awake. Tonight, at precisely 3:30 a.m., Avie lost her souce and started crying.

Gave her a few minutes to see if she would go back to sleep on her own, but after 10 mins, I realized she wasn't going to and the whimpering was quickly escalating into full-out cry. Before she got there, I went in, sneaked the souce back in. Too late--now she needed to be cuddled a moment. A few pats on the back and laid her back down. Done.

Back to bed. Except, now I am awake. And, I've started thinking, worrying--about all kinds of things. I look at the clock. Suddenly, it's 4:30 a.m., and I'm still awake. Tossing and turning and just unable to get back to sleep.

I try to clear my mind. Get up out of bed, pour cold water on my hands. Nada. It's 5:00 now. I'm annoyed because I can't sleep--more annoyed that my husband is sleeping soundly and doesn't even bother to wake up to share in my discomfort. Logically, of course, I don't really want this. Why should he have to suffer? But, somewhere in my head, I want him to roll over and say something and sympathize with my situation. I sit up, throwing back the covers and making frustrated sounds. Nothing from him. Not even a stir.

I walk into the living room to get some cool air into my system (I once read an article about insomnia that mentioned that coolness helps people get to sleep, hence the water and air.) and to avoid waking him while I try to distract myself enough to go back to sleep. I see the glow of the laptop from the dining room where I've left it open, and sigh.

Might as well check e-mails. I need to get out of my own headspace anyways. Checked e-mail, checked FB messages, read some new posts on my fave blog sites. Now, it's 5:34 a.m. and I'm not certain if I am getting drowsy or more awake. I'm hoping that my body temp has cooled down enough to sleep and my mind will relax enough to just accept it.

Otherwise, I'm going to pay for this in the morning. And, tomorrow is chemo day. Although Hubby will be taking her, I'll be at home with Avie--and she rarely naps, so I can't count on her to let me catch up any lost sleep through the night.

Am I the only one this ever happens to?

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

Well, not really. In fact, I can't recall a November as non-wintery as this, but it's beginning to 'look' a lot like Christmas in our house. Almost all of the decorations are up (with the exception of the trees, as we have decided to go with two real pines this year), Diana Krall is on the CD player and sugar cookies have been baked and iced (in hideously garish fashion!) and now reside in a Tupperware container on the kitchen island, awaiting eager little hands.

Still, I feel every bit behind this year. Not much shopping has been done (beyond a few Etsy orders and a last-minute trip to the Samko and Miko sale, that really only produced a few books), the Christmas cards have been ordered, but not yet started and the Santa letters, although in the works, have not been completed. I still have to attempt a new recipe for a Christmas cookie exchange next week, buy some decorations for the float Hubby has been working on putting together for this weekend's parade and RSVP some holiday invitations.

Plus, there's all the things I would like to do, but feel we will simply not have time for this year. (For example, I wanted to sew up somnot e presents and do some crafting in time for the holidays, but realistically, I know that that is going to happen.) This isn't unusual. I always have a huge 'to-do' list each holiday season, but I generally get most of it accomplished with time to spare. This year, I'm really feeling bogged down by it, though.

Why am I dragging my feet a little this year? Is it simple lack of time or a deeper hesitation? Not sure. I'm usually all over Christmas. And, as excited as I am for the parties and family visits, turkey dinners, twinkling lights, mailboxes full of glittery cards and delighted faces Christmas morning, lately, I've been preoccupied with other things.

A lot of it has to do with Brooke. She's been a superstar throughout this whole cancer ordeal--tolerant and rocker tough, but the chemo treatments have finally caught up to her. I find the meds are really taking their toll on her these last couple of treatments. She has not tolerated them as well as she has in the past. And, although her numbers are usually quite high, she's feeling the effects of the treatment.

Lately, her appetite is nil. And, because of mouth sores that she has developed as a result of the chemo, it hurts to eat. She's fed up of medication and having to take upwards of five syringes of medication a day (usually just two, but last week, she had an ear infection, so had more meds to take.)

Her balance and equilibrium are completely off-kilter, so she has been falling down and running into things more than usual--even for a naturally clumsy kid. And, of course, she bruises like nobody's business now, so the bumps and scrapes really look worse than they are. And, we think, because of her balance sensitivity, she's become prone to motion sickness. We've had a few vomiting incidents of late that seem to suggest she can't handle more than 30 minutes in the car any longer.

Sometimes, she seems so tired, or rather tired of being sick, that she just curls up in my lap and says ''I want you.'' It makes me want to cry.

This morning, I cajoled her into taking her medication and allowing me to swab her gums with a medicated mouthwash. It was so painful and/or yucky, she began to cry. I gave her some water to wash out her mouth and she spit it out. Then, she just lifted her hand up and patted my cheek and crying said. ''I just want you to colour with me.'' So, off we went.

She's pale, she's skinny and she's sniffly. She's sick of being sick and I'm sick of having a sick kid. I want my robust, rosy-cheeked, cheerful girl back. It sucks.

On the bright side, it's almost over. My little Fuzz Buzz only has to endure another month of pokes and bandaids and anti-nausea medication. Another chemo treatment on Monday and the final one four days before Santa makes his big trip. To be done with this whole thing will be a relief--and the best Christmas present of all.

I think that's what I'm really looking forward to this year--not really Christmas, so much as the New Year. Starting 2011 healthy and happy. Hubby and I have already decided to spend an LCBO gift certificate our friends gave us on a bottle of champagne to ring in the New Year. It will be a clean slate for all of us. I can't wait.

Until then, Brooke and I will finish her Santa letter. I'm going to include a post-script at the bottom to let Santa know just how great she's been this year. Brave, patient and the best big sister Avie could hope for. I think he will agree that she is deserving of an extra-special present this year.

P.S.: Wrote this yesterday--mailed Santa letters today. Got some shopping done yesterday and RSVPed to a few shindigs. Feel like I finally accomplished somethings. Good thing, too--only one month to go!

P.P.S.: The close-up of the cookies--yikes. Brooke has the benefit of impatience and lack of dexterity on her side. I don't know what the hell my problem is. And, yes, sadly--that's my batch.

P.P.P.S.: To my French-Canadian readers, Happy St.Catherine's Day! To my American readers (should I have any?), Happy Thanksgiving!!

Toddler talk

I am always amused by the things Brooke says. I try to jot down the crazy, mixed-up phrases as often as I can, as I always want to remember the way she spoke as a kid. These moments are fleeting and I can't bear to let them dissolve into the nothingness that can sometimes be my memory. Thought I would share some of these kooky quotes. Here are a few of my faves:

• ''treasure-treating'' instead of ''trick-or-treating''



• ''being boring" instead of ''being born'' (For example: ''When I was being boring, I was just a little, tiny baby.'' My reply? ''Peanut, you have never been--and will never be--boring.'')



• ''but I don't love potatoes'' instead of ''I don't like potatoes'' (I like that she is always so passionate about such a downright mediocre vegetable.)



• for some reason, she always says ''lemon'' when what she is really referring to is waterMELON. Verbal dyslexia, perhaps?



• ''wello'' instead of ''yellow''



• the common toddler ''sgetti'' instead of ''spaghetti''



• ''firemetre'' instead of ''firefighter''



• ''puter'' for ''computer''



• ''mote'' for ''remote''



• ''bitch'' instead of ''fetch'' (And when she was called out on this one, she explained to me that she meant the comment for the dog. This did not help clear things up until she actually tossed the ball for him. Phew!)



• ''mean shows'' for TV shows or movies that are adult in nature and should not be viewed by the under 13-set.



• ''daddy shows'' for any TV programming that is crime or home improvement-related.



• ''my bum hurts'' used as her announcement that she needs to go pee. (Said shortly after I notice her doing the potty dance, and immediately following the "but Mom, I'm not holding myself!'')



• ''Tim Hortman's'' instead of ''Tim Horton's''



• ''red store'' in reference to her father's fave store--the holiest of Canadian retailers: Canadian Tire. The "blue store" refers to Wal-Mart, while the ''green store" means Dollarama. These are her three favourite shops.



• ''black things'' for any reference to pepper, spices, or the slightly blackened parts of cooked food. She refuses to eat anything touched by these black bits--doesn't even matter if she was the one to put them there, in the first place.



• ''Oh, isn't that so sweet!'' when referring to babies, bunnies or baby dolls.



• ''Let's go girls!'' (This is said to Avie and me only in moments of exuberant adventure.)



• ''How 'bout I have chocolate AND cherry?'' (This is said in response to her father's question: ''Do you want a chocolate or cherry Timbit?'')



• ''Okay, darling, this won't hurt. And if it does, we'll put a bandaid on it, okay, sweetie?'' (I don't call people 'darling' or 'sweetie,' so I imagine she gets this from the nurses at the hospital. Only ever seems to come out when she is playing nurse or doctor.)



• ''I've got cozy, fresh socks on." (Nothing really funny or amusing about that one. I just enjoy the fact that my barely 3-year-old can appreciate the comfort of a good pair of socks.)



• ''Mommy, can we got to Donald's?'' (This is said after a chemo appointment when she is craving McDonald's. Not as funny as Grace's version: ''Chicken Donald's!'')



• and, although, she got a reprimand for this one (even as I was laughing behind my hand): ''Mommy, you are being a pain in the ask.'' I think you can guess what this one should have been.
  

Kids truly do say the darndest things. Love you, baby girl.

A few of my favourite things

My in-the-moment fave things:

1) Watching B try to feed Avie with a baby spoon. The two of them enjoy it for a few minutes, before B gets bored with how difficult it is to gauge where Avie's mouth will be and Avie gets frustrated that B is taking so long to get any grub in! But those few moments of shared giggles? Priceless.

2) Holiday commercials on TV--yes, they've started, and I don't mind at all. I'm hoping to see some tear-jerkers again this year. (Best ones to date? The Pampers Silent Night ad--huge, ugly tears every bloody time I see it!--the Tim Horton's one where the kid brings a coffee to his elderly neighbour while the old man shovels the driveway, the Dieppe Bell Canada one (my Hubby's personal fave), and the Canadian Tire no-fireplace-for-Santa commercial.)

3) Loading up my Playlist.com with holiday tunes and then setting my laptop to the page so I can listen to my family's playlist over and over again while I dice carrots or fold laundry.

4) My new lunettes. Browny librarian frames from Ray Ban. I like the contrast punch of dark tortoiseshell against my pale, freckled skin each time my eyes flicker over my own reflection.

5) Avie's two little teeth, set into that sugary-sweet, gummy smile. I love you, cupcake, like vanilla batter loves chocolate frosting.

6) Following the Enjoying the Small Things blog by Kelle Hampton. Vivid, evocative photos + passionate, heartfelt writing = great friggin' read. I find both her blog and how she views ordinary things--motherhood, everyday life, simple moments--truly inspiring. Don't even know her and yet feel she is a kindred spirit--or at least the kind of the spirit I aspire to be. Check her blog out if you need a pick-me-up.

7) Hubby's Movember makeover. In support of prostrate cancer, he has decided to turn his goatee into a moustache. To be entirely fair to the cause, he decided to start from scratch. He shaved off the ol' facial hair to make room for the new. He took off the hair on his head, too. He's a cueball. B has more hair on her little chemo head than he does now (her hair, by the by, has started to grow back. I love feeling the soft little tufts sprouting on her head. The little hairs look dark right now, but we'll see what comes of them with time.). In spite of looking like a newborn baby, it's kinda fun to run your hand over his bristly pate. Like wide-weave velcro.

8) B's continued love for her baby dolls. Yesterday, when we were preparing for our walk to the mailbox, she asked if we had a baby sling or a car seat for her doll (I was trying to find the Bjorn for Avie). I told her we didn't have one, but maybe we could ask for one from Santa. She agreed, then promptly unzipped her jacket halfway, stuffed her doll inside and proceeded outside. A mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do to keep her kid warm.

9) Getting back into scrapbooking. Made three pages at my sister's Stampin' Up club get-together last weekend. Felt good to sit down with the ladies, chat about the latest goings-on and get our creative juices flowing. Can't wait to make Christmas cards and gift tags!

10) Watching my precious babies sleep. Every night from the time we brought Brooke home until I stopped some months ago, I used to peek in on Brooke before I myself hit the hay. I told myself I was just checking in, to make sure she was alright and still breathing, but the reality was just to catch a glimpse of her relaxed face, dark lashes sweeping peacefully across her seashell-pink skin, her plump, bow-shaped lips sucking peacefully at nothing, an uncurled fist flung carelessly across a plush snuggly toy.

I stopped slipping into her room a few months after she turned two because I found that she was startling awake each time I inched the door open. I hated to do it, but I decided that her need for a good's night rest outweighed my desire to watch her sleep. (Why I simply didn't think to get Hubby to WD40 the hinges is beyond me, but that's besides the point of the story. ) Anyways, I simply got out of the habit of checking in. I haven't even done it that much with Avie. She slept beside us in a bassinette for the first three months, so I checked in with her then, but that's about it.

The other day? I did just that.

I had to wake up Avie from her nap to make it to an appointment on time. (Trust me, I did not want to do it. I HATE waking a sleeping baby--and it would figure that the one time I need Avery to take a short nap, she decides to pull a two-hour siesta.) I went into her room and just stood there for a few moments. Watched the breath go in and out of her, eyelashes fluttering, cheek buried in the brown satin of her blankie. Pure bliss.

Was so struck by how sweet that moment was and how I missed the checking in that I decided to peek in on Brooke, too. Cracked open her bedroom door. Her bald little head was popping out of her blanket cocoon, bunnies falling halfway out of bed, dolls haphazardly perched on the edge, books strewn about the comforter. Complete and utter peace and comfort.

Filled me with goodness. Really missed that. Thankful for the moment that reminded me of how precious it is to have children to watch over--even if it meant having to wake Avie from a sound sleep.

What are some of your must-haves this month?

And it begins anew

Halloween has been over for days now, and I am amazed that the snow is still here. It fell in huge, fluffy clumps on the night of the 30th, just as Hunter's Birthday Surprise (which went off without a hitch! He was so confused and stunned!) was coming to an end.

The snow, a sparkling white blanket, was still there the next morning--inches thick on the car and back deck. The chickens were huddled in the shed, leery of the frost out in their pen and the ice that had formed in their water bowls. It was so cold that Hubby had to shut their little door to the pen and plug in the heat lamp for the old girls. Their days are numbered, but no need to freeze 'em beforehand.

That morning, we defrosted the windows of the car and cranked up the heater, then packed up the trunk with costumes and pumpkins and treats.

The chill outside was palpable. The pines in our front yard drooped from the heavy snowfall. The chimneys of our neighbours puffed merrily as if each was trying to out-puff the others. The kids on our street threw snowballs and made snow angels and wiped mittened hands across runny noses with glee.

In fact, the entire drive to my in-laws was every inch a Christmas scene, and had we a holiday CD in the car, Hubby would have popped it in the player. The only difference between that drive and the usual wintery landscape? The pumpkin heads on the snowmen!

Parkas-over-costumes aside, the kids weren't too bothered by the weather that night. They traipsed from house to house, begging foodstuffs from Jackie's neighbours. They came back, after 1.5 hours of trick-or-treating, with rosy cheeks, chilled hands and bulging bags of goodies. And, even though it was a school night, we ended the evening by going over to my Dad's place for post-Halloween burgers and pumpkin cake. A good time had by all for sure.

And, now? It looks like Christmas is settling in for the long haul. The snow is on the ground (with more flurries expected this weekend). The songs are already playing on my car stereo. The December magazines have started appearing. And--dare I say it? I already received my first holiday party invitation in the mail! Sure, it's a community ''Breakfast with Santa'' thing sent to everyone in our village--and sure, it was printed on pink paper as opposed to red or green--but it still counts. Sorta.

Can you hear the Whoville Whos singing "Welcome Christmas, Welcome, Welcome" in the background or is it just me?