Today

Today, I celebrate my beautiful grades 6/7 students. I am continually blown away by their sweetness, their energy, their giggles, their stories and their spunk. I am so hoping that they wind up in one of my high school classes in a few years. I would love to teach them again!

Today, I eagerly anticipate summer. One more (full) day and then, I am a full-time Momma for the summer. I am ready to snuggle more in the morning and have adventures with my babies. Play dates are welcome - if you want to hang out, I'm excited to do that! This is our first no morning-nap summer in a while and I am pumped!

Today marks our one-month anniversary of being "homeless". I am still very, very thankful to my in-laws for allowing us to "holiday" here. I am also crossing my fingers and toes for an accurate possession date.

Today, I will go to my staff party and awkwardly mingle with my co-workers. I suck at this! I work with fabulous, kind and caring people. It's not them - it's me. My introvert side takes over at staff parties and I spend most of the time feeling like a deer caught in the headlights.

A Compromise

Last month, I made a choice about working part-time. I felt like I was settling for a not-so-great job (pushing the Core French cart) in order to make a good choice for my family. I felt really good about the family part but, let's be honest, I was doing a lot of positive self-talk to motivate myself about next year. I'm a really positive person and I know that attitude is everything. However, having to constantly "look for the good" and "get excited for change" was starting to wear on me. (Besides, I kept having a recurring nightmare about Middle Years children, French verbs and me trying to sing in French with them).

Another opportunity to go back to my old high school arose. Subjects I know and love. This job, however was full-time for the first semester and part time for the second semester. After a lot of thought, I realized that this might be the compromise I need. It's full time but, not forever. I think I can manage that.

Today, I said yes to that compromise.

30-Something

I turned 33 this past week.
Trevor turned 32 this past week.
My lovely niece turned 3 this past week.
We celebrated it all last night.

I remember a show on TV called 30-Something when I was a kid. I have no idea what it was about except that I wasn't allowed to watch it.

Now, I'm imagining it was about getting excited about socks for your B-day, having a kid puke up all his sushi on your B-day (at the inlaws place - in the spare room), waking up every night with an hysterical 3 year old, losing an earring (diamond - sigh) in the grass while "wrestling" a one-year old and Zumba fitness. Yep - this decade is shaping up to be completely different from the decade of bliss that my 20s was!
:)

Actually, this is exactly where I want to be in life. This is a good thing because, I can see things carrying on this way for quite a while.

(15 work days left until summer - I can HARDLY wait!!!)

Life in Transition

Simon - "Mom, I don't want to sleep in this room anymore."
Simon - "I am sad about missing my ____ Street house."
Simon - "When do I get my new room? I would like it to have dinosaurs."
Simon - "Why are we moving?"
Simon - "Where is our box trailer? Who is with my toys?"
Simon - "When will I see S_____ (neighbour) and talk at the fence again?"
Simon - "Does my new house have tulips? I would like a tulip."

This is Simon's perspective of our temporary life in transition. Claire is a little more clingy and a little more demanding. I am trying hard to keep their routines and the food the same. I am trying to snuggle them more and reassure them the best I can.

I have very similar questions, Simon. I feel a little like a fish out of water without my own "home".

M.I.A.

We took Fergus out to the farm. A frightened cat and two toddlers strapped into car seats is not a good mix. We had an interesting 1/2 hour journey out. :)

We explained to the kids that this was Fergus' new home. We kissed and cuddled and petted that little dude so much that day, I'm sure that being placed into a quiet garage was a relief.
Fergus' new home was where I grew up. He'd be well-cared for by my parents, fed well, sheltered and given free range of the farm + all the mice he wanted to chase and eat.
My Mom gave up parking in the garage for a week to "acclimatize" him to his home. We came out later in the week to let him outside for the first time. After a good romp, I put him back in before we left.
My Mom was carrying in groceries when the wee beastie scampered out the garage. She left him for a bit and then, when she called him, he didn't come. Figuring he was enjoying his new-found freedom, my Mom didn't worry too much. Later that night, she tried calling him again. Worried, she left the garage door partly up (which let in a nasty tom-cat who beat up my parents' other sweet cat). To no avail, Fergus has not been seen since.
I am heart-sick. I know that he is just a cat but, he's my cat. I love that little guy. He drove me up the wall but, he slept at my feet, left my children alone and loved me. He napped with me during the crazy baby days and kept small rodents at bay.
All I can think about is him wandering, hungry, scared and homeless. My poor little cat.
I hope he makes his way back to the farm.
I hope one of my Mom's neighbours sees him and calls her.
I hope he gets picked up by the animal shelter and we get a call.
I hope he eventually makes his way back to our old neighbourhood and that our neighbours recognize him and call us.
I hope I get to see his furry face again.