Tis the Season

Everyone has their own Christmas traditions. Some are your standard stockings at daybreak and a turkey dinner with plum pudding and hard sauce for dessert. Others spend the day at a soup kitchen, helping out those who have nothing.

I found out yesterday that someone I'm related to (not by blood, thank God) plans to start a new tradition for herself. I should first start by saying that she's not one to believe in Christmas as she isn't a Christian. She kind of has a self-styled religion that she takes from Wicca, Shamanism, and Isis worship, if you will. And it changes at her whim.

That being said, one person she told her plans to feels that she may have her nose out of joint for not being included in anyone's Christmas celebration. "Why the hell should she be invited? She couldn't care less about Christmas and she isn't rational to start with anyway."

Whatever.

Anyway, this relative had told two people, on separate occasions, that her Christmas Day plans are to go around breaking other people's Christmas decorations and then going out for Chinese.

Bah humbug.

For a while, a big chunk of her family didn't buy that she is mentally ill with bi-polar disorder. We had a big ol' family gathering yesterday. Yeah, uh, that opinion has changed.

Obviously, the woman needs help, but she doesn't think she does. And that is the catch-22 of the illness.

All the same, and call me a total callous bitch (it's okay, I've heard worse from the person in question), but I am absolutely going to be screening my calls for the next little while.

New and Improved

We got a new hamster last night. It's a sweet dwarf hamster, dark grey in colour. Daughter is so thrilled, but still holds hope that she'll find Peewee. She's no idiot, though. She has entertained the thought that it might be dead, but she is an optimist.

Husband likes the new one. It's way more docile than the last. And it didn't bite him.

Three Wise Women

I had a lovely conversation with my neighbours today. Okay, it bordered on the blasphemous, which is funny because we were standing in the church parking lot.

"If there were three wise WOMEN, they would have asked for directions and have arrived on time."

"And they would have helped deliver the baby," my neighbour added (she's a nurse). "And then they'd clean up the stable a little bit."

"And forget about frankincense. They would have brought practical gifts." This neighbour works in retail.

"And made some casseroles for Mary to store for later."

Peewee's Big Adventure

As hamsters are wont to do, Peewee escaped.

It probably happened on Thursday night. I went to feed it on Friday at dinnertime and saw that the cap on the end of the tube popped off and the hamster was gone.

Where ever she is, I'm sure she's regretting her decision. Clean cage, food and treats on a regular basis, love and play from Daughter.

Yes, Daughter was positively distraught. As soon as we found out, the whole family totally cleaned the ground floor where the cage is. I checked the stairs to see for "signs" that she may have climbed it. There wasn't any.

In fact, there was no sign (or "sign", if you like) of Peewee anywhere. We checked everywhere. We even pulled out the stove and fridge. Husband and I stayed up Friday night (we rented An Inconvenient Truth - everyone should see it and then do their part). We listened hard, in the dark, for scurrying sounds until I started doing the head whips and packed it in just after midnight. Devoted dad that he is, Husband even went around the house at 4 a.m. to listen and did so again last night.

My theory is this: Peewee made her way off the dining room sideboard where her cage is, scurried close to the walls and went down the floor grates (our home was built in 1905) through the duct work and met a fiery death in the furnace. Seriously, I hope this is what happened. I, for one, don't want to be playing the "Where's the smell coming from" game.

Husband disagrees with me. "I'd have heard her if she went into the ducts." Not if you were sleeping, Steve Austin!

We're giving it a week and then we'll welcome Peewee #2, with Daughter's blessing.

Meanwhile, her faith is being put to the test. "I prayed to God and asked all the saints to help me find her." I reached into the deep recesses to find the proper spiritual response "God's will, blah, blah, blah" but I don't think she's buying that. Nothing like having doubts so close to Christmas.

Nothin' says lovin' like...

If you know what Husband looks like, you'd be surprised to learn that cute-faced husky boys tickle my fancy.

Happy Monday, y'all.

Trick Monkey

Baby Boy is registered for kindergarten next September. It was an exercise in futility, frankly, as I had to make an appointment for some woman from the county health board to "interview" him so they can assess his abilities and readiness for school.

Uh, I'm his parent. I say he's ready for school (as am I). Are my taxes not good enough for you?

Anyway, the kid was not pleased to be pulled away from home to perform like some kind of trick monkey. I tried to diffuse the situation, telling the woman that the child goes to nursery school and if there's a problem, his teacher will contact her. "Oh, he goes to nursery school? We can go there to assess him!" And she started clearing things away.

"Uh, yeah, it's like this. If you think my son would prefer you pulling him away from his friends and a gym full of ride-on toys and all the Hot Wheels and blocks he could play crash-up with, you're sorely mistaken. Nu-uh. Gimme a minute."

So I turned our backs to her and whispered in Baby Boy's ear, "If you do what this woman asks of you, I'll give you some jellybeans at home." Of course, I didn't want this health board so-and-so to know that I bribe my kids. Next thing I'll hear is a knock on the door from Children's Aid.

Sure enough, Baby Boy saddled back to the table and said, smacking his hands down on the table, "Let's get to work, lady."

Needless to say, the little guy did swimmingly, easing through all her hoops with ease and his usual charm and precociousness that makes him so appealing, even to strangers at the grocery store.

And the older two kids got incredible report cards. Middle Child got straight As (many A+s) and one B-...in gym!

Dead Squirrel

Dead Squirrel
Originally uploaded by Nimcheena.

Squirrels go all, well, squirrelly in autumn in their preparations for winter.

I ran my car over one the other day.

I was taking the kids to school (yes, we were late again). I wasn't driving fast or anything. In fact, I knew I was going to hit it before it actually happened because the squirrel hesitated.

"What did you run over, Mummy?" Daughter asked.

Should I lie? Deciding against that, I said, "It was a squirrel."

"How late are we?" asked Middle Child, "because I'd like to go see the guts."

I thought the kids were going to freak. We felt the bump and everything. I promised them I'd show them after school if it was still there. Baby Boy and I checked it out when we got back home. It looked like I snapped its neck as I ran over its head. Only the eyeball popped out.

This happened right in front of the church I live near. At least it was on consecrated ground.

I'd make a horrible Buddhist.