this and that

Two days straight without alcohol. Quite the feat. Greg was kind enough to hide a nice bottle of red wine we have, so I wouldn’t be tempted. However he hid it right behind our leftover Halloween candy (which I haven’t sworn off for the month of November), so it’s still reminding me of what I’m missing. Perhaps I’ll move it.

Today is my “work all day” day, so I’m pretty beat. A few weeks ago Greg and I started a system where Monday my only real childcare duties are doing drop off in the morning and joining my family for dinner (the latter of which is optional). The rest of the day is mine to work. Then Greg does a similar gig on Tuesday. Neither of us work a full 40 hours a week, but we still find it hard to get in our hours, so this was a way to get in at least one longer day without having to stay up until the wee hours. So far it’s working fairly well. Yes, I’m tired, but it’s only 10:00 and I’ve put in a 10 hour day.

Sometimes I marvel at how much free time I must have had before I had children. It never felt that way, though, and I know several child-free couples who are plenty busy, so I guess you always fill up the time you have. I think I’m used to the pace that we go at, and it’s not out of control, but sometimes I wish I had more time to do some of the things I used to do, like scrapbooking and doing more than one sport. And I wish I had larger blocks of time to get things done. Like a whole weekend (or even a day!!) with nothing else to do so that Greg and I could renovate our bathroom…or put together our closet organizer…or stain Amy’s nightstand…or go through the miscellaneous piles of “stuff” we have laying around our house…

Oh well, at least I’m not bored!

siblings

[This is my second post for today, as I missed yesterday. Yup, day 3 and I already screwed up.]

Before I had children, my only long term experience with sibling relationships was what I had lived through myself, as the youngest of four. In my household growing up, there was plenty of fun and plenty of tormenting, which I think is fairly normal. But being part of the sibling relationship versus being the parent of the siblings is very, very different. Sure, I got pissed off at my siblings, but I never worried about it, never projected into the future and thought “OMG, we’re going to be fighting for the rest of our lives”.

I’ve heard of siblings who get along really well and never fight. Amy and Elliot are NOT those siblings. There have been many days over the past three years that I’ve wanted to take each one of my children, throw them in their respective rooms and lock the doors. They know exactly what buttons to push on each other, and they push them often. I struggle with how much to interfere and how much to stand back and let them work it out (and how much to meet somewhere in the middle and coach them in working it out). Unfortunately they both can get very physical, so I do tend to interfere, and often the sound of their fighting is so freaking annoying that I interfere just so it’ll stop.

But…what keeps me sane is there is also the other side. Elliot has always been a wonderful teacher to Amy, and he has been known to show an amazing amount of compassion for someone so young, especially toward his sister. And Amy looks up to her big brother and often wants nothing more than to just play with him, and he does indulge her, almost every day. As they both get older their play seems to mesh a bit more, and they rarely argue over what they should play.

And there are times of extreme bliss. Like tonight, while Greg and I were making dinner together, and for an hour the kids were together upstairs, playing very quietly. I wasn’t sure exactly what they were doing, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard them playing so quietly together. They both came downstairs a couple of times with very secretive grins on their faces, and Elliot asked me not to go into his room. Greg and I were curious as to what they were up to, but they’ve never given us any cause to not trust them, and they were obviously having fun, so we left it. Not to mention that it was nice not to have to referee.

Finally, when I gave them a heads up that dinner was almost ready, Elliot asked me (very excitedly) to come upstairs and see something. He had me close my eyes while he went into his room to get positioned. I had no idea what I was going to be presented with (although I suspected a huge mess). I opened my eyes to the coolest fort, made out of all of their blankets, using the loft bed as a supporting structure. They both had their pillows, stuffies, books and flashlights set up in the fort and they were snuggled in together, grinning from ear to ear.

It was awesome, and I felt a huge wave of contentment as I was invited into the fort to check it out. Definitely the high of my day.

disruptive night

Last night we were out late (for us) with friends, after which I drove our babysitter home. I rolled into bed just before 1:00, ready for a good night’s sleep. At about 2:30 am, I awoke with a start as Elliot pushed open our door and let out a cry. I don’t know if this is typical, but when I get woken up in middle of the night by my kids, my heart rate goes from 60 to 180, and it’s a very jarring wake up. This happens to me even when Amy calls out that she needs to pee, so when the wake up comes with a cry, it makes it worse.

I assumed he’d had a bad dream, and I immediately told him we were right there, and it was okay. I couldn’t see him, though, and as I was saying this, Greg got out of bed quite quickly and guided Elliot to the bathroom. I was a bit confused, as Elliot is very good about peeing on his own in the middle of the night, and then it dawned on me that he was sick. I pulled myself out of bed and joined the boys in the bathroom. Sure enough, there was puke all over the floor, about as close to the toilet as you could get without getting any of it in the toilet. Greg got Elliot cleaned up while I got on my hands and knees and started cleaning up. It was everywhere — in two dimensions, thanks to the surrounded walls, toilet and cupboards.

After I finished, Greg started guiding Elliot back into bed, but I vetoed that idea. Elliot sleeps in a loft bed and the thought of cleaning him and the bed up in the middle of the night was not appealing. So Elliot climbed into bed with me (with a bowl and a towel), and Greg went downstairs. This all took about 15 minutes, and I was wide awake by then. Elliot feel asleep fairly quickly, but it was a very fitful sleep, which is very unlike him. And every time he moved I thought he was going to puke. And every time he moved he got closer and closer to me, and I was sure I was going to be his next target. So…not exactly a relaxing sleep.

Then, about an hour later, just as I was finally nodding off, I heard Greg bolt out of the basement bedroom. My first thought was that he was puking, but then I heard him go get the dog cookie jar. Which, at 3:30 in the morning, only means one thing. The dog was outside and was not coming when called. So I got up to investigate. Greg informed me that Heart had puked, he’d managed to get her out the basement door in time, but then she refused to come when Greg called her. Greg sent me back to bed, but he was up for a while longer as Heart tried to rid herself of evil from the opposite end. FUN STUFF.

Thankfully there was no more puking after that, human or canine, and the silver lining was that both kids had a huge sleep-in. I don’t think I got out of bed until 8:30, new time. So my sleep was sub par, but at least it was long.

Ahhh, the joy of dependants.

just under the wire

I have four minutes to write this or I’ll turn into a pumpkin. I went out with some girlfriends tonight and I’m feeling a bit under the weather so I knew I wouldn’t be home late (i.e. I knew I’d have plenty of time to write this when I got home). Well, I got home late and here I am…writing about absolutely nothing.

I got some good news today that I’ll write more about in an upcoming post. I had a night out with some good friends that was quite enjoyable. I didn’t have to put the kids to bed. So all in all, a good day.

That’s it, that’s all.

remember me?

Because I don’t have enough on my plate, I’ve decided to once again do NaBloPoMo. As per usual I have no plan. I do try to think of some theme I could do to help me with content, but I can never think of anything (other than complaining about my husband’s Movember facial hair). But even though ever year I think I’m pathetic, when I look back at the NaBloPoMo posts I’ve done over the past four years, I enjoy reading almost every one of them. So I’m going to do if for no other reason than it’ll get me posting again, at least for 30 days.

I’m also taking on another challenge. I’m going off alcohol for the month of November*. I drink way more than I used to. I think I’m still within the normal range, but I’ve noticed an increase in my personal consumption, and I definitely use it to make me feel better when I’m feeling stressed, which I’m not happy about. So I’m going to do this just to prove to myself that I can.

So stay tuned for a month of rambling, theme-less posts and complaints about my alcohol withdrawal.

*I’ve given myself permission to drink on social occasions. And my definition of a social occasion is when I’m with someone who is not my husband (although he can be there too) and who is also having a drink. Which means I’ll be drinking on Nov. 2 and Nov. 3. A good start to a month of no drinking!

tour de victoria 2012

I’ve been meaning to do a Tour de Victoria post but I haven’t felt inspired. A few days ago, K asked me (via email), how it went, and here’s my reply to her:

*******

My ride was great. I was trying to not have high expectations, mostly since I’d had a three week break from training because of Saudi, but I had the thought that if I finished it in 4:15, I’d be ecstatic. I told Greg to expect me at around 4:30, 4:45.

It was a great day weather-wise. I remember the ride a bit more this year than I did last year, maybe because this year I rode it mostly by myself. Last year I had Ann and I’m sure our chatting distracted me. That and the pain. 🙂 I think I was a bit more aware this year, too. I found it a bit odd that I couldn’t remember huge portions of the first one, so I think I tried to be more aware of where I was.

Anyway, we had to do Munns road this year, which is a brutal climb (that we didn’t do last year). I had ridden it four times before the race, so I knew I could do it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not hard!! It turned out that Greg caught up to me on this climb (earlier than expected — he was doing the longer portion and was whizzing along), so that was a nice boost, and then I started chatting with another girl for a good portion of the climb. Which made me not so conscious of the fact that my legs were complaining loudly and I sounded like I was going to have a heart attack.

Munns was near the beginning, so it was nice to have that under my belt. We then continued along through Brentwood Bay and every Saanich municipality under the sun, out to the ferries. During this time I again chatted a bit with another woman, and then she eventually took off. I found this part of the ride the hardest. I remember looking down and seeing 30 km and thinking that we were not yet a third through, and I was tired. How was I going to make 100 km? (For the record, I’d never actually ridden 100 km before the race…90 was my furthest). But I kept plodding along. I passed the half way point and that was a mental milestone. I was on my own for the rest of the ride…it’s not that I didn’t want to find a group that I could draft with, it’s just that every group that came by was too fast, and I didn’t actually pass any groups — just individual people. I am definitely a loner when it comes to exercise, though, as I was fine by myself. There were a few aid stations along the way but early on I decided not to stop, and I literally did not get off my bike for the whole race.

Going through Cordova Bay I was pretty pooped, and I knew I had two large hills left — Ash and King George Terrace. Friends had told us they’d be at one or the other. I went up Ash looking for them, but they weren’t there. I was a bit disappointed, but it turned out fine, as knowing they were going to be on KG Terrace really helped me along. I had internal conversations with myself saying that once I reached 80 km, I was going to start pushing it a bit more. Turns out I didn’t have a lot left, so that changed to 90 km, and in the end it was only the last three km that I was able to give anything more to.

When I got to King George Terrace I knew L and T would be there, and sure enough they were at the top of the second hump, cheering and ringing their cowbell. It was SOOOO nice to see them. After that it was pretty much downhill to the finish line, and less than 10 km to go.

From about 50 km on, I kept looking at my bike computer and the time, and attempted to do time math in my head…a great way to keep myself occupied. I realized that I was making some good time, and realized I just might make my 4:15 goal. I tried to tell myself that it would be fine if I didn’t. It was apparent that I’d get in under 4:30, unless I royally screwed up, and I think I would have been just fine with that…but I ended up getting in at 4:13. It was awesome, except Greg
missed me at the finish line because he wasn’t expecting me so early.

After 4:13 hours on my bike, not getting off at all, I was pretty sore when I got off. The only thing that helped was squatting. And the beer I had right afterward.

I don’t know what the plan will be for next year…whether I do this race again, or maybe do the 140 km. Or maybe something entirely different. But I do know that I really enjoy riding, and every time I get on my bike I feel like I belong on it.

like a ton of bricks

Yesterday morning I was about 20 minutes into my run at Thetis and I took a step over a rock and didn’t lift my foot up enough. The tip of my foot grazed the rock, and it was enough to trip me. I wasn’t able to right myself (I think because I was going downhill, but I’m not sure what actually happened) and I went down hard on my left side. You know how when you fall your instinct is to go down with hands and knees first? I don’t think I had time to do that…I just went down. Full left side contact with the (rocky) ground. Knee, thigh, elbow, shoulder, head and both hands all took damage. I think my knee and shoulder are the worst in terms of tenderness.

I stayed down for a few seconds assessing the damage. At the time I was acutely aware of the fact that I hit my head. Not because it hurt that much, but because it just seemed so odd to fall and not be able to protect my head. Then I was aware of the different parts that were hurting. I slowly got up and determined I could walk with little trouble, so I started making my way along the trail. About two minutes later (and this is where shock and adrenaline are amazing things), I decided that I wasn’t going to let a fall ruin my run, and I ran 10 more minutes back to the car. As I write this a day and a half later I have no idea how I managed that.

I drove home a bit concerned about how I was going to get the dirt out of all my cuts, and feeling really apprehensive about the shower that I would have to have. The shower was excruciating, and it made me nauseous. I was able to clean up most of the cuts, but there were two on my right hand that were chock full of dirt that I couldn’t get it out — it hurt too much. I tried again after the shower (with a nail brush of all things) and I almost puked. So, feeling like an idiot I went off to the clinic to get them cleaned up. By this point all shock had worn off and my whole left side felt like it had been pummelled.

The doctor at the clinic agreed that the dirt had to come out. He tried to loosen it up a bit by running my hand under water, and then he proceeded to take a gauze pad and scrub. Like you’d scrub burned food off a frying pan. I was sitting in a chair while he did the smaller of the two cuts. He kept asking me how I was (sweet man), and before he started on the bigger cut he insisted I lie down. I was thankful, as it was awful. But he got it all out, and I left the clinic with a fresh bandaid, a bright red palm, and two cuts that were stinging like the dickens.

I went to work which was a good distraction and then had a beer at lunch which I think helped with the pain a bit. I got home and popped some Ibuprofen. Greg is camping with Amy this weekend and I was very thankful to have just one child, and the more independent child at that. While I’m mobile and certainly able to walk, both leg and arm movement hurt. If I lie down for a while and then get up, there is some pretty intense pain in my knee as all the blood rushes back down to all the cuts. And the top of my shoulder is extremely tender. The lightest touch makes me cringe. Oh, and when I took my bandaids off this morning to change them, they all stuck to the cuts so I had to rip them off. I borrowed some Polysporin from my neighbour when I reapplied the bandaids, so hopefully that won’t happen again.

With the exception of a trip I had on a pipe while running in a school field (which I don’t really count because the pipe was totally hidden), I’ve never fallen when running. I do tend to not pick up my feet as much as I should, though, and based on this experience I think I will try to be a bit more aware of my footing. Because this is a real inconvenience. I’m in pain, I’m kind of grumpy, I’m very tired, and I don’t think I’m going to be able to do any exercise for at least a week.

I feel like a total dweeb for doing this to myself, and I feel old…this kind of fall 10 years ago wouldn’t have hurt me as much, I’m sure. But it could have been worse. It could have been the Friday before my bike race. I would not have been able to ride, which would have been extremely disappointing. And I could have hurt myself a whole lot more, especially if I’d cracked my head harder. But the experience has reminded me how vulnerable we are.

homeward bound

In about three hours I’ll be heading down to the hotel lobby to check out, and then I’m off to the airport to begin my trek home:
– 2 hour wait in the airport (international flight + strange airport + busy airport = Sue needs lots of time)
– 6 hour flight to Frankfurt
– 6 hour layover in Frankfurt
– 10 hour flight to Vancouver
– 2 hour layover in Vancouver
– 22 minute flight to Victoria

I just had an hour long nap and now I feel all groggy, plus I’ve been fighting some sort of stomach issue for the last week, so not really feeling up to the voyage ahead of me, but it’ll be well worth it just to get home. The kids and Greg will meet me at the airport, and I’m very excited to see them.

I’m off to pack and to eat.

i’ll remain a sloth

As I was checking in to my current hotel on Friday morning (that’s hotel #3 for anyone who’s counting), I was told there was a ladies gym in the hotel. This is unusual for the Saudi hotels that we’ve been staying in for this project (there is always a men’s gym), and I was briefly excited, until I realized I had brought no workout gear with me, specifically no shoes suitable for going to a gym. Upon further thought I decided that I do have one pair that might work, so I took the keycard for the gym so I could check it out. That was Friday evening. It is now Monday evening here, and I finally checked out the ladies gym. It’s actually not bad — it has a couple of elliptical trainers, a stair climber and a few free weights.

I stood in the room for a few minutes, looking around, and then left, knowing full well that I wasn’t going to go back. I mean who am I kidding? I’ve come this far without exercising one iota, why break the trend now when I’m three days away from leaving? I’ve got all sorts of things working against me, too: no workout clothes or shoes, I hate working out in a gym, um…I guess that’s it.

So…if I come home and complain to you that I wasn’t able to exercise for 16 days, you can gently correct me and remind me that if I’d come prepared and if I’d had just a little motivation, I could have exercised the last five days I was here.

fins and flying

Haven’t posted for a few days, that’s usually a good sign.

I switched hotels on Wednesday night. (Just as an aside, it is incredibly confusing to have a different work week here…we obviously get used to the placement of our weekdays. I am constantly confused about what day it is and what day I did what.) Anyway, Wednesday night I moved into the Sheraton in Jeddah so I could get a day pass to the Sheraton Villa Resort. Marty and I went snorkelling on Thursday. It was HOT, but if you were by the sea there was a great breeze that made it the perfect temperature in the shade. I snorkelled twice, for a total of about an hour. It was a bit choppy and the visibility wasn’t as good as last time, but it was still pretty phenomenal. And you know the water’s warm when I, the biggest wimp when it comes to cold water, don’t hesitate getting in.

The rest of the time I sat on a lawn chair and read, sitting about four feet away from the Red Sea. Did I mention I was by the Red Sea? Did I mention that I’ve been in the Red Sea?

So that was Thursday. Friday I spent in my hotel room, mostly working myself into a frenzy about having to fly from Jeddah to Riyadh on my own that night, and once again having to make my way to a hotel in a strange city. Two Saudi airports in one day? Yikes. As you probably guessed, I managed. I was totally confused in the Jeddah airport about where I was supposed to go and I was thinking what a stupid system it was until I realized (many hours later) it was the exact same system as any Canadian airport. You do a self check-in, drop off your bag, and then head to the gate. I think I was so worked up that I failed to see the similarities. Plus I was scared of doing something “wrong” and getting yelled at. Not that I’ve ever been yelled at here.

As we were sitting on the plane taxiing to the runway, I looked up from my book and realized that the nose of the plane had a camera in front of it, and they were projecting the image onto a big screen in the middle of the airplane. Pretty cool in a totally freaky sort of way. I am not the most relaxed flyer, and I contemplated trying to ignore the camera (did I really want to see the nose of the plane lift off the ground?), but my curiosity got the better of me, and I watched the take off. It was pretty cool. Then right after take off, when all you could see out of the nose camera was sky, they switched to a camera that must have been right under the nose. I had to turn away from that one. The ground was moving too quickly and moving a long way away too quickly. I generally get through take off by repeating to myself that statistically the plane I’m on is not going to crash. I don’t need to be reminded of how fast we were going and how quickly the ground is dropping away below us.

I’m now in Riyadh, and I’ve just completed my first day training a new group. It went remarkably well, and although I’m very tired, I can almost say it was enjoyable. The group here is a bit more jovial, plus there were only seven people, as opposed to 15 in Jeddah.

I’ve got four more days of work and then I’m heading home. The countdown has started. I haven’t even unpacked my suitcases here and I’m not sure I will. Because I’m going home in four sleeps!