Friday, March 30, 2007

I can't.

I feel myself folding in
Closing off.
I see hope getting further
Deserting me when I need it most.
I want to call it back.
But fear has stolen my voice.

I wonder
If I'll ever get to go back
To a place where I feel joy
Untarnished by loss.
Or if
Nothing will ever feel right again.

And my heart is crying.
No no please no.
Not this.
Because I can't.

I'm trying to tell myself that I'm wrong. That all of this is wrong... And there is going to be this amazing magical announcement that everything I'm scared of isn't actually happening. That the thing all the signs are pointing to isn't real, at least not for my dad. Not for us. I'm trying to make myself believe that miracles happen all the time... That my boys will have time to spare to know and love their grampa. I know I'm supposed to be strong and positive. I know giving in to my fear doesn't help anything. I'm supposed to be the support. I'm supposed to help, not make things worse. I'm trying to do what I'm supposed to and only worry about today. I'm trying to stop my mind from taking me to a future that I don't want to live in. I'm trying to believe that God knows and He will take care of all of this. I'm trying to trust that He loves all of us, and that whatever happens, it will be okay. I'm trying really hard to be positive. To wait and see. To hope for the best instead of fearing the worst. But I can't. I just really really can't.

Not right now, anyways.

UPDATE: I'm still waiting for news from the hospital. I can't stop cleaning my house. If I stop then the fear and the pain come crashing over me in waves that seem too big for me to ever surface from.

UPDATE: I'm feeling a bit better today. No new info from the hospital but that tight knot in my stomach is loosening up a bit. I'm opening up the comments section for those who have been wanting to comment... Just be gentle.

Thursday, March 29, 2007

I forget.

Yesterday, Sam knew how to walk. Today he doesn't. He just stands there and you can see everything in his body straining to go forward, but he has forgotten how to lift his feet.

That's how I feel right now. I used to know how to go forward. It seemed so easy. Just lift your feet and walk right? It seemed so easy at the time. Lately, I've been having trouble. I feel like I am frozen. If I could just remember how to take that first step I know everything could change. But I can't remember.

Probably tomorrow Sam will remember that he knows how to walk. I hope that's a sign that sometime soon I'll remember too.

Wednesday, March 28, 2007

March just keeps on sucking.

I know some of you out there will think I'm whining, but that's too bad cause I'm gonna do it anyways. Ben is barfing now. Sam is out of the barfing stage and into the explosive diarrhea stage. Not nice. I am trying to push through all the housework today just in case I go down too. It's not going well since the boys are sick and aside from creating even more things for me to clean up, they are needing my attention.

Also, I talked to Dad today. His kidneys didn't improve over the weekend. The doctor said if it was just the drugs that temporarily shut them down then they should have improved. But they didn't. He has another blood test tomorrow and if things aren't looking better they will schedule him for a biopsy. This, of course, sends me straight back into panic mode. Some days life is just a lot to deal with, and just so you all know, I'm not dealing well.

Please pray for my dad.

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

I'm back!

... But I have no time to post. Sam has the stomach flu AGAIN and Ben has been feverish, so I'm guessing this week won't be very much fun for yours truly... And you want to know the worst part? Aside from looking after my barfing baby, this morning I had to clean up two puddles of cat puke. Why oh WHY couldn't this be me? WHY?!?

Friday, March 23, 2007

Home where my thought's escaping...

In my usual, spur of the moment, pick up and go fashion, Ben, Sam and I ditched Dorkton for a few days and took of for sunnier ports. Well, funnier ports anyways...

Glen is SO busy right now with drama and marking that I hardly see the guy, so I decided now was the perfect time for a visit with Mom and Dad. (And by visit, I mean, make a pain of myself by hanging over Dad to make sure he's alive and stuff.) I like coming on my own, because I get to visit with people I don't ordinarily see. (Ah, who are we kidding? I like to visit on my own because I get to spend the entire time hanging out with Ang. What? No. Yayah!)

Since this keyboard is giving me trouble, that's all I'll say for now, but any of you people in Saskatoon are welcome to drop me a line and if I can spare the time from my rigorous schedule of hanging out with Ang, maybe we can get together. (This means you, Becky and Krissy.)

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Dear Sam,

I figured it out today. It's your tongue. How can anyone not laugh when they look at you and you have that odd, dippy look on your face with your little tongue sticking out?

Thanks for helping me with the laundry this afternoon. I really appreciated the way you pulled all of my neatly folded clothes down and licked them one at a time. I guess your tongue is good for more than just making your mommy laugh.

You are such a strange little man, which makes me happy, because I always hoped I would have weirdos for children. You fulfill that dream in ways I could have never imagined.

Love, Mommy

Monday, March 19, 2007

Dear Ben and Sam,

I am NOT a morning person. Ask anyone. I'm not. But I love mornings. I love mornings because your faces light up when you see me. I love putting the two of you in my bed and cuddling with you while you have your bottles. I love it when you toss your bottles aside and sit up and look at me with that wild expectant look in your eyes that tells me it's time to play. I love tickling you.

Ben, your laugh is so contagious. You always sound like you are about to lose your mind, but when I stop tickling you you always take my hand and put it back under your chin for more. You are just like your mommy and always seem to thrive on experiencing life at full blast. But you are sensitive. You reach out for each new experience with such an open eagerness and you feel things so deeply. I see myself in you in that way... So ready to feel everything, and then sometimes so overwhelmed by the feelings I reach out for.

And Sam, my crazed little lunatic, I look in your eyes and I see fun. You always seem to be up for a good time in the mornings. I love walking into your room and seeing you standing there... Bouncing and whispering, "Uh Sss!" Then I pick you up and you wrap yourself around me and bounce some more. I lay you on the bed beside your brother and we all start laughing together because you Sam, are laughter. I don't know how to explain what it is about you that makes all of us laugh so much, but you are laughter.

Then we all laze around and have hugs and kisses and tickles and it feels like my life has clicked into place. I am exactly where I want to be doing exactly want I want to be doing. Holding you. Playing with you. Loving you.

I can't wait till tomorrow to do it all over again.

Love, Mommy

Sunday, March 18, 2007

CBC: Test the Nation

I just knew it. I'm smarter than the average surgeon. I am so smart. S-M-R-T.

Glen and I played along on CBC tonight. It wasn't surprising that the things I thought were easy were brutal for Glen, and the bits that Glen thought were easy almost set my poor little brain on fire. These things stress. me. out. I'm telling you people, I'm too competitive.

If I didn't feel so stupid in ordinary life I wouldn't feel the need to prove myself in an I.Q. test and I wouldn't be so pleased with my test result... But sadly, most of the time I can't remember what year it is and I find myself gazing dully at the backs of frozen pizza boxes trying to force my brain to comprehend the complicated instructions.So there you have it. It turns out my brain only feels fried. This is excellent news for me. Things are still going on up there and hopefully, when my days of watching Dora and discussing things like, "Who is a stinky boy?" are done I will probably still have just enough brain cells left over to start a career writing trashy romance novels. Hurrah!

UPDATE: Apparently, I am not the only one who is thinking very highly of myself after pitting myself against the nation...


Dad's at home this weekend. He's doing "better", but his kidneys weren't working when he left the hospital on Friday. It would be great if all of you could pray that they would start up again pronto. He goes back to the hospital for more tests and stuff on Monday, so I am hoping with all my heart that everything is going to be working the way it should be.

Don't tell him I said this, but if he doesn't get off his duff and get better soon I may not be able to make myself stay here in Yorkton. I don't like him being sick and me being so far away. I would feel better just being closer. I'm pretty sure he is fine without me there hovering over him, but it would make me feel better if I could just do a little bit of fussing. You know... Tucking him in all cosy, stroking his head, feeding him soup, singing him lullabyes, that kind of stuff. Heh heh.

Friday, March 16, 2007

But Mom! Everybody's doing it!

Once again here's me, copying the bloggers around me:

Thursday, March 15, 2007

Just Asking

Ever had one of those days where you just want to lay down and cry for a really long time at the end of it?

Of course you have. Everyone has. And most of you probably had better reasons than I do. I think I'm just tired.

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

I hate this month.

Not to complain. But honestly. So far March is complete crap. It seems like we are just going from one crappy piece of crap to the next piece of stinky dumb crappy crap.

Stomach Flu for Ben
Stomach Flu for Sam
Stomach Flu for Becky
Broken Water Heater
More Colds
Natural Gas Leak

And today caps it all off. (Or craps it all off.) Dad is at the hospital cause he's anemic. And dehydrated. And he said something about his liver being enlarged at which point I jumped immediately into complete freak out mode and lost the ability to listen even close to intelligently.

March sucks and I want it to be over.

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Why do I do the things I do?

The words Paul wrote long ago in a land far away describe my last couple of days pretty much perfectly...

Romans 7
14We know that the law is spiritual; but I am unspiritual, sold as a slave to sin. 15I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. 16And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. 17As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. 18I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. 19For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. 20Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.

Blah. I want to be a good mom. I know how to go about it. I know all of the things that I would like to do for and with my boys. I also know what things I shouldn't do to be the kind of mom I want to be. For one thing, I shouldn't snap at my boys and get angry with them for no good reason. But I do it. Not often. But sometimes I do.

Today I snapped at Ben and I scared him. He covered his mouth and got a look in his eyes that made me hate myself. Did that stop me though? Nope. Even though I knew my reactions and feelings were wrong I continued on my miserable way.

I have no good excuse. I've got some crappy ones though... I'm tired... I'm in the grips of PMS... My house is a disaster due to the three weeks of sickness we've just survived... I'm overwhelmed by some personal struggles... I'm tired of being stuck in this house all day... But I have no good excuse. I made a choice to allow myself to vent my frustrations on my boys. I didn't do it for long, but it affected our whole day together. For the rest of the day even my smiles felt forced and I feel like they could tell. It seemed like we all just got crankier and crankier. Sigh. It's a good thing they take naps. I swear God invented naps to give mommies time to calm down and regroup.

Sometimes I can't seem to stop myself from doing things I really don't want to do. Even as I tell myself that I will regret it, that I shouldn't do it, that I don't have to do it, I somehow find myself doing the ONE thing I tell myself not to do. Why is that? I guess Paul answers that question pretty clearly.

It's no coincidence that on the days when this happens I am usually doing a pretty thorough job of ignoring God's voice to the best of my ability. Usually, because I am mad at Him for some reason or because I'm feeling guilty about something. I am
SO Eve hiding in the garden so God won't see me all naked. The thing about hiding from someone that can see everything is that it just makes you look like an idiot. I'm like a little child covering my eyes so no one can see me. I think that if I pretend I can't hear God's still small voice whispering to me that I can bluff my way through, and all that ends up happening is while I am plugging my ears and covering my eyes I walk into more trouble. Cause I can't see. And I can't hear.

Blah. Today was a blah day for me. I sure hope I manage to do a bit better tomorrow...

Just Like You

Why do I do the things I do?

Why do I turn my back on You?
I long to be,
The perfect me.
When will I start to see?

How I can be called holy one,
Just like You.
How I can look more like the son,
Just like You.

I must die the death You died.
I must release my pride.
And I'll let go of my control.
Lord let Your mercy flow.

So I can be called holy one,
Just like You.
So I can look more like the son,
Just like You.

Lord purify my heart and mind.
Let me be refined.
Bend my will, make me be still.
Lord let Your Spirit fill.

And I will be called holy one,
Just like You.
And I will look more like the son,
Just like You.

Not the best song ever written, but maybe it would have made the last couple of days a bit better if I had remembered it a little earlier. Blahity blah.

Monday, March 12, 2007

The Thrilling Conclusion

Okay, so it wasn't that thrilling. But it was a conclusion... The exchange was arranged. The remotes for the duck. Quackers came home, forever changed, but with the love of his family he has regained his zest for life and quacky personality. And I... I have come to terms with the guilt and rage that came with the helplessness I felt while he was held captive so many years ago. It has been a long road, but we have come through it stronger and happier. We have learned to cherish the times we are together and to never take each other for granted.

I thought you'd all enjoy seeing for yourselves how well Quackers is doing so here are some photos the Duckems took on their most recent family vacation to Mount Quackatau...

Dad Duckems takes to the slopes.

Mom and the boys enjoy the snow caverns.

Quackers and his twin sister and their snow duck.

As for the ducknapper... Justice was served and waterfowl everywhere can swim a little safer, knowing that this criminal won't be stalking the swamps and bathrooms where they make their homes...

Thursday, March 08, 2007

My Birthday Wish

Today is my birthday. Generally, I like to try and keep it a secret so I can feel sorry for myself when no one but Donna remembers, but she let the cat out of the bag this year.

And so, because it's my birthday, and because I want to be just like my Canadian Idol Becky, I ask you to describe me in one word. Becky asked for strange and interesting words, which I'm tempted to ask for from you people, but frankly, I'm a little scared. So be interesting, just try and remember it's my birthday.

Oh, and to all you lurkers out there... You know who you are are... (Heather Epp and Angerama) This is especially for you. It's only one word and IT'S MY BIRTHDAY! So make me happy and write a comment.

My birthday gift from R Miller's Plumbing & Heating Ltd.

Our water heater is leaking. We called a plumber. He came over and looked at it for around one minute and told me. "Your water heater is leaking." Uhhhhhh. Yeah. Then he told me it would have to be replaced which preceded a conversation about the short life of water heaters in Yorkton because of our incredibly bad water. (Our water heater is six years old. My mom and dad's is over 25 years old and still going strong.) I cut the conversation short and told him he should go since I couldn't put one in that day, because it was going to cost $800.00, which is a little too much to pay without even talking to Glen. I said something along the lines of "Well, there's no point in my paying you $50.00 an hour for you to stand here talking to me, you might as well go so this doesn't cost me anymore than it has to." So he left. And they billed us the full $50.00 for the ten minutes he was at our house.

So today I called. Here is the conversation. Please note that I was perky people. I was cheerful and oozing niceness, mostly to keep myself calm and partly because you get more bees with honey and all that crap.

Me: Hi. My husband Glen talked to you today. He told me that you are charging us $50.00 for the ten minute visit your plumber made us the other day?
Her: Yes.
Me: I just wanted to confirm that there is no way that that fee can be reduced, since it was such a short visit?
Her: No. The plumber said you told him not to put the tank in that day. It was still a service call.
Me: Yes, well I also told him that he should hurry since it was costing me money for him to be there. Why then, at that point did he not tell me "Ma'am, it costs the full $50.00 no matter what"?
Her: (Interrupting the end of my sentence) (Rudely) You know what? I'm going to erase the $52.00 from your account but you're going to have to get your hot water heater somewhere else.
Me: (Laughing) (Cause are you kidding me here?) Gladly! And I will also gladly tell everyone that...
Her: Hangs up on me! Hangs up! On me!

Question: What is it with businesses here in Yorkton? Why is it that they feel it is a good idea to treat customers so poorly? Is business really that good that throwing away around $850.00 is more desirable than dealing with a customer in a polite fashion? Honestly. Some days you have to wonder... I'll tell you one thing. I was very tempted to call her back and say "Please! Please charge me that $50.00! I take back everything I said! I'm so sorry! Please put in my hot water heater! Please! I want to pay you to treat me badly some more! Please! I love bad customer service! And I love being over-charged! Please!"

I didn't though. But I wanted to. Sigh. Oh well. Free service call! Happy birthday to me!

UPDATE: I was just upstairs vacuuming and I thought to myself, "Sheesh. It's a good thing I didn't get to the part of the conversation where I threatened to take my business elsewhere..."

Wednesday, March 07, 2007

The Tables Turn

Email sent: 11:23pm, Saturday, April 27, 2002

Hello There.

You may have noticed that some very dear members
of your family are missing. WE HAVE THEM! No...
Begging, pleading, and threats WILL NOT WORK! You must
meet our demands or continue to live with the void their
absence has left in your life.

You will arrange for the safe return of Becky's
missing family member, Quackers. We don't care
how you make this happen, but you better make it
happen. OR ELSE! (See picture.)

You must email all of the follies, and tell them
that Becky is the most talented person that you have ever,
or will ever meet. Also, you must mention that you think that
she is beauty personified, and that, in every way,
you wish that you could be like her.

We want $5.05 (We can add a little better than
some "nappers" out there...)
No... Not a "bill". That will not even "remotely"
satisfy us. (See? We can be funny too. Are you
laughing? You'd BETTER be! We are in charge here!)
We will require: 1 loonie, 5 quarters, 25 dimes, 5
nickels, and 5 pennies, unmarked, and all dated
later than 1984. This payment must be delivered to
Becky's mail
box on, or before, May 4th, OR ELSE!
(Your family
members will then be immediately delivered
to your
mailbox, sealed in plastic bags to protect
them against
the elements and wandering packs of dogs.)

Simple as that.

You may have noticed that the picture we are sending
does not incude one of your family members. That
is because we have KILLED him to show you
that WE MEAN BUSINESS! (Are you afraid?
You'd BETTER be! We are in charge here!)

Sunday, March 04, 2007

Ducknapper Resistance Effort

Email Sent: 9:12pm, Thursday, April 25th, 2002

Subject: Duck Napper Resistance Fighters
To: darcie, donnab, tammy, tami, laurel, scott,
donnam, jackie, kara, becky, dad, stacy

Hello All,

I must first apologise that all of you have been brought into this
sordid affair. The sheer audacity of the Villanous Duck Nappers'
previous email to impose demands upon all of you has left me
flaberghasted. And they dare to suggest that Becky has failed to meet
their demands! She has been careful to follow them directly and to the
letter! I have come to see that these Heinous Hooligans are not really
interested in having their demands met, but in seeing how many demands
their victims will follow through on for their own perverse pleasure.

Well I for one will not be leaned on any more by these Diabolical Duck
Nappers, and I call on you to do the same. It's time for these Punny
Duck Nappers to see what it's like to feel the"pwessure". Through some
careful investigation, we now have some solid evidence about the
identity of one of these Nefarious Nappers.

We believe she may have been involved in a crazy musical of some sort,
hence the choice of location for the drop-off -- which may be their
home turf. Be on the look-out for the following individual (see
attached picture). Although seen here in disguise, we are hopeful there
may be those who can see through it.

Email any information you may have to this group of resistance fighters.
Together we can end this without giving in to their devilish demands.

Friday, March 02, 2007

When I'm Old

I hope I can still laugh at myself. I hope I think jokes about old people are funny, and tell them to my grandkids to freak them out.

I hope I still like to walk barefoot in the rain.

I hope my boobs don't hang below my waist. If they can just. stay. above. my. waist.

I hope they still make bruschetta at Moxie's. Man I love that stuff.

I hope Ang "Kasper" and I dress up in purposely weird, but not obviously fake, creepy old lady clothes and pencil in our eyebrows for a shopping trip at some teen stores in the mall. Oh man. That would be so funny. Actually, we should do it now.

I hope I finally figure out how to make good puffed wheat cake. 'Cause all old ladies should be able to make good puffed wheat cake.

I hope Ang lives close to Johnny and he has to mediate all the fights she's gonna get into at her old folks home, and all I have to do is listen to him complain about her on the phone and then laugh like crazy when I hang up.

Heh heh. I'm still thinking about shopping at La Chateau when I'm around 70. Ho man. That would rock. I can just see the sales girl's face when I ask to try on a shiny silver halter top in extra small. Especially since my boobs will probably be at my waist. Ha ha ha ha ha. Poor girl. She has no idea what's coming.

I hope I don't ever decide that socks over pantyhose and in sneakers with Bermuda shorts is a good look for me. Especially black sneakers.

I really hope I don't cut my hair very short and perm it. This one in particular scares me, because I've always sworn I would never do it, and we all know how well those oaths (or these ones) have been working out for me.

I hope headbands come back in style.

That's all.

Where is all of this coming from? An online friend wrote a tongue-in-cheek post about an old lady and got a lot of flack for poking fun at her. Some people were concerned that old people reading her post would be hurt and it made me wonder if, when I was old, something like that would hurt me or make me laugh. I hope it would make me laugh. Anyways, I could write a whole bunch of stuff about hoping my children are happy, and I'm still in love with Glen, and I can look back on my life and know I've made a difference, but that's a given, and the other stuff is pretty critical to me. I hope when I'm old I'm still fun.

I'm so glad!

Johnny and Melissa are coming for a visit and bringing me my Noah.

Herbal Essences stopped making orgasm ads. I refused to buy their Shampoo and Conditioner while they were on, even though I loved the smell of the stuff and longed to use it. (Now my most hated ads are Axe deodorant. Oh how I hate them.)

I bought myself some Bath and Body Works lotion on ebay. I just got another whiff of my Country Apple scented skin and it's just amazing.

*Sniffs self.* I smell so good today.

I haven't puked for two days now, which is really helping in the smelling good department, I think.

The boys seem to be finally done with the stomach flu. No more barf. No more diarrhea. This is probably also helping in the smelling good department.

(Actually, when you think about it, the universe has really aligned today for me. Many things have had to happen to bring me to this place of ultimate smelling goodness.)

Sometimes, people who aren't good at their jobs get fired. Now I won't have to listen to Ping constantly complaining about her supervisor anymore. Weeeee!

I bought myself a pair of rubber shoes like Shirley's. I love these things. They are the best thing I've bought all year. The other day Sam puked on them and I just rinsed 'em off baby! Good as new! Maybe better! Fabulous! (Ang. This picture's just for you.)

Thursday, March 01, 2007

Doing what needed to be done...

While wandering through my emails to find all of the ones sent to me by the ducknappers, I stumbled across a copy of the email I sent out to comply with their demands. Sorry that it is out of sequence, but here it is...

Hi All.

Today for no reason whatsoever, just out of the blue, completely on my own, with no outside pressure or blackmailing... I was thinking...

Don't you all agree that Vixen "is the true shining light of the Yorkton performing arts scene." I truly and wholehearted believe that "her talent is needed in a lead role in this year's coming performance."

That is what I really think. Really.

In profound "awe",

Becky "I'm not worthy" Willems

I also found a copy of another email that was sent to the nappers by my dad...

Sent: 1:42pm, Sunday, April 21, 2002
From: John Braun
Subject: (no subject)
To: "Duck nappers"

I realize that my previous note may have sounded somewhat threatening.
Please don't harm the duck on account of one grandpa's feeble mind
wandering back to the days of my youth, when I could have backed up all
those foolish statements.

Now I beg you, with all the tears that these poor old eyes can still
shed; please return the duck and make my daughter smile again. Since the
dear little soul was removed from her home she just hasn't been the
same. She sighs a lot now and stares up at the sky in hopes of seeing
him winging back into her arms, to roost once again on the back of her
toilet. I will happily forward the stupendous reward of $5.00 to you if
he is returned.

A simpering Grandpa and Grandma

Poor Dad, when Quackers went missing it really took its toll on him. I'm pretty sure that's when he lost all his hair and got that vacant look in his eyes that never really went away...