The goings on, and an out-of-my-comfort-zone challenge

Rob's not been feeling well - 2 days now of being really sorta pitiful. Maybe it was the mussels, which nobody else ate, on account of their being nasty little things. Our Sunday clean up was even more necessary because "Rob the invalid" had not been doing his usual stirling job of keeping things clean and organized. We’d absolutely fall apart without that man. 

The kids (all 4 of them, plus an overnight houseguest of Sam's) were all corralled into attending to their chore chart duties - I might as well have been asking them to eat dung for the amount of protesting I got. In the end, the house got to look alright, even in the kitchen. Since the kitchen is Rob's purview, the kids complained mightily about the “extra” chore, but I managed to explain that a kitchen piled high with 2 days worth of detritus, dishes and debris was going to make supper a non-event. They all pitched in, and the kitchen looked half way decent when we left to go out for supper (as if I was actually gonna cook; I cleaned - isn’t that enough?). I left Rob wrapped in a kid’s blanket in a sorry bundle on the love seat- I think he was grateful for the reduction in volume at home. Poor guy- at least he

 seemed okay on his birthday the day before.

We did 3 birthday parties this weekend- I guess we’re into that season again. Sometimes I wish Sam wasn’t such an easy-going, likable kid; maybe we’d have to deal with fewer birthday party invitations then.

Sam’s overnight guest (because what Rob really wanted on his birthday was another child- not!) was Evan, who’s a likable kid. He and Sam do pretty well together. They met at after-school care a couple of years ago; we see less of Evan since he moved to another school. Evan's mum called me last minute to arrange a play date, which is a good way to arrange things with me, ‘cause if they’re arranged too far

 in advance, I’ll likely forget, or double book or something; in an aside, she let me know that she and her husband, Evan's dad, are separating. She says it’s mutual and amicable and that they have just fizzled out. Over the rest of the summer, they are going to take turns living in a suite, alternating with living in the house with the kids. I'm shocked and saddened about the whole turn of events- they seemed like a particularly “together” couple- enjoying each other’s company, doing interesting things together. I am having trouble wrapping my head around the idea that two people who are still “good friends” would choose to split up- I just don’t get it. I'm sure there’s more to the story, and it’s not my place to judge, and if I ever have a relationship (other than with Pentax) that lasts more than 3.5 years, maybe I’ll understand, too. but still...

Sunday's birthday party was for Jacob. His mum Carol is a beautiful person, inside and out. She’s one of my favourite people. Jacob's dad is also gorgeous, so Jacob and his younger sister are gorgeous kids, too. Tragedy struck this family when Jacob was 10 months old. His dad was a semi-pro soccer player, and while leaping up to head the ball, was headed in the head by an opponent. Brain injury ensued, and at points during his subsequent hospitalization, he wasn’t expected to survive. He has survived, and in some ways has made a miraculous recovery, but he is definitely brain-injured. Carol had been finding her husband’s increasingly erratic and abusive behaviour more and more difficult to deal with, and she could see how damaging the abuse was for the kids. Eventually, this past winter, she made the heart-breaking decision to have her husband moved back to his mother’s house, which has been viewed as a betrayal of sorts by most of his family. Apparently, life is less stressful at home, but Carol still struggles with the guilt, logistics and ongoing trauma of the original injury, and how it has brought such a brutal disruption to all their lives. I have the barest glimmer of how painful her life has been, and I wish I could do more for her. She was first in line with support when Willis died, and I feel a kinship with her, in a way, and I love her and her kids, and her husband, too, although I don’t know him well. Carol did okay at the birthday party- gracious and gentle, as always. She, like a widow, is coming from a place not so much of “you’re so strong and brave”, but of sheer necessity. She absolutely has no choice but to keep her ship afloat, because her kids are on that ship. Necessity doesn’t preclude desperation, and I see that in her, too. I am going to have to challenge myself to make an absolute commitment to have her kids out here soon, so she can get some down time of some sort.

Maybe this’ll be my opportunity to push myself out of my comfort zone: I really do avoid making and keeping commitments. I absolutely “fly by the seat of my pants” in social situations, household habits, parenting, at work. It’s easier, more familiar, more comfortable this way. Rob is astonishingly regular. I doubt that natural disaster (and certainly not a disaster of a wife) could put him off his regular routine. This is both inspirational and annoying. Alright, there it is, out there in public: my goal for the next week(?) (maybe a day; I’m scared already about this idea) is to make commitments and stick to them, and to make and stick to a routine. Specifically, how about if I get up on time for the rest of the week, get out of the house on time, get Sam to school on time and make a date with Carol to have her kids over here- all this week. That seems doable to me. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Here’s something a little more light-hearted to finish up with:


My kids are so totally adorable!










Some Pampas Grass, up close:





Can you identify this plant?





My sweetie, being hunky, adorable and capable- I do love this man!



This post has rambled all over the place, hasn't it? It rambled kind of unexpectedly into a post I'm gonna use for Julie Pippert's Hump Day Hmm- Comfort Zone. Writing can be such a funny thing.